


In the Shadows

by sigynstark



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Animal Abuse, Beating, Blood, Blood and Injury, Caning, Character Death, Coma, Dirty Talk, F/M, Figging, Fluff, Hallucinations, Hospitalization, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, Murder, Mycroft To The Rescue, Original Character Death(s), Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Mycroft, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Smut, Starvation, Swearing, Threats, Torture, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 68
Words: 208,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigynstark/pseuds/sigynstark
Summary: The office kept joking about how he was the Iceman, but to my eyes, he was rage, burning anger and fire.And I came to the conclusion after two weeks.Mycroft Holmeshated me.





	1. Chapter 1

The look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine. Mycroft Holmes was angry at me again. I wasn't sure what did I do this time; did I forget to copy something? Or I put accidentally less sugar in his tea? I looked away; the office kept joking about how he was the Iceman, but to my eyes, he was rage, burning anger and fire.

I hated when he yelled at me for something and it happened more and more frequently. Sometimes it was enough to put papers on his desk a little sloppily. At other times he did again, if I looked like I was tired and didn't want to do what he told me to. There was one occasion when he merely disliked my makeup. All the while raising his voice when I argued weakly.

So I came to the conclusion after two weeks. _Mycroft Holmes **hated** me._

He wasn't always like this with me, though. In the past three months he's been a decent, kind boss, always polite and merely requesting things from me. But in the past two weeks, he started to become a nightmare. He started to order me around in a tone like I was a criminal on loose. I was terribly afraid of him. Maybe it was because of the upcoming elections or his brother did something again that got to him; I often blamed the current events happening to protect the image of him I had in my mind. But today, I decided he simply hated me. I wanted to ask why; what have I done to wrong him so? I did everything to my best knowledge and I knew it wasn't much compared to his genius, but still. And he seemed pleased with me for two and a half months. What changed?

"You're late again", he snapped at me coldly and I crossed my arms as if I could protect myself from him.

"I'm sorry, sir."

One damned minute. I was late one minute. Once again, I was sure he looked for things to hate me for. I was already upset and the blush coloured my cheeks. I wanted to get out of his office as fast as possible.

"Look at me." There he was, already raising his voice. I struggled with myself but obeyed; his cold blue hues stared at me stern and I felt like a deer in the headlight, startled and panicking. "Could you possibly **_ever_** be on time?"

I couldn't help but wonder, how should I answer to this?

"It was only a minute."

It wasn't a good enough defense. My voice was weak and tired and I was glad I had my arms crossed because my hands started to tremble.

" _Only a minute._ " He leaned back in his seat with a displeased look on his face. "What if you didn't get paid for these 'only one minutes', I wonder? Shall we see how it'd affect your salary?"

My lips quivered. That was his ultimate weapon against me. He used the topic of the money frequently and now a thought crossed my mind. I was so desperate I let it slip out loud.

"Why don't you just fire me then, sir? It seems I'm not living up to your expectations."

Mycroft stared at me coolly for a few seconds.

"Firing you wouldn't teach you the lesson."

I blushed deeper.

"Can I leave?"

"No." He glanced at his laptop's screen. “Your e-mails from yesterday are full of spelling mistakes."

I wanted to roll my eyes so badly. He was humiliating me, scolding me like a child and I honestly, really, hated it.

"I'm sorry sir. I was very tired."

"Tired?" He cocked a brow at me, looking up at me again. "So that's why you spent two hours at the Ten Bells after work?"

I could feel my stomach clench in horror and the colour left my face. Yes, I've been to that pub yesterday because a friend of mine here invited me. Actually, now that I think of it, it kinda was a date. But how and why did Mycroft know about this?

_I can't see how it is relevant to my job, sir. I went there to relax. What I do outside work is my business._

Too bad I only spoke my mind **in my mind!**

"You're representing me outside of work as well. I want you to stay professional. No more pubs, Miss Lone."

"But sir..."

"Quiet", he snapped. I hung my head, defeated. "You can't be seen in such places anymore. Understood?"

What did I sign up for? Was this really included in my terms of agreement? I read it through but I couldn't remember this bit. Probably because it didn’t exist.

"Understood, sir."

After all, there were a lot of other places I could go with Scott. Restaurant, theatre, cinema, park, café... so many possibilities. Though, I wouldn't be able to let out a little stress with a glass of wine, but I could do that at home.

"I'm glad we straightened that out", Mycroft said then with that triumphant grin of his. "Bring me a tea then get to work with today's e-mails."

"Right away, sir." I sighed, turning and finally leaving his office.

Why was he so mean with me and why did he care what was I doing outside of the office, really? I wondered on and on and the excuse he gave me seemed more and more unacceptable. Outside of the office nobody knew I was working for him. With a sigh, I made him his tea just as he liked it, bringing it back to his office with me. He didn't look up at me and said nothing, so I quickly left before he could lash out at me again. I breathed out with relief when I was sitting in my cozy little corner just outside his door. I turned on my computer and quickly ate the croissant I brought with me before I got to work. Then I started to sort out important and unimportant mails, sending them in prioritical order to the boss. I checked my spelling twice.

"Hey, morning, Lizzie", I heard a familiar voice and I immediately beamed up a smile at Scott.

"Good morning, Scott."

He looked gorgeous in his white shirt and black suit, not as elegant as Mycroft, but he was still handsome. Scott was tall and skinny, his cheekbones and chin legendary in the office, his brown hair reached his eyes but was always brushed to the right side. And, of course, he wore all sorts of bowties, because they were cool. He worked for the intelligence, practically spying on people through CCTV for Mycroft. I still wondered if it was legal.

"How's work?" He asked.

"Decent", I shrugged simply. "How's yours?"

"I brought these for Mr Holmes", he put a few files on my desk. "Wanna grab a cuppa?"

"Right, gimme a sec, just taking these to the boss. He's been waiting for them." I picked up the files and got up. As I walked next to Scott I once again realised he was so damned tall. I had to tilt my head to look up at him. And the way he smiled down at me made me ridiculously happy. "I just wanted to tell you..."

"Yes?" He smiled wider when I went silent.

"I had fun with you yesterday."

"Really?" The smile he gave me was so big I was afraid his face would split in two.

"Really-really." I nodded. "Maybe we could... have dinner tonight?"

"Yes! Yes, that'd be perfect! Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Sure. Six?"

"Right." He straightened his back and looked so pleased with himself. I loved it. "But coffee first."

"Yeah", I laughed with my heart beating fast from excitement and walked over to Mycroft's door.

To my surprise, it was open just slightly. Strange. I remembered I closed it. I knocked nevertheless, going in when he gave me permission, walking to his desk without looking at him. I put down the files on his desk carefully, then turned to leave.

"Elisabeth", Mycroft spoke my name in a way I knew he'd tell me something I'd hate.

"Yes, sir?" I turned to look at him from the middle of his office, while he kept reading a file.

"You're going to stay in my office tonight to practice spelling."

**_What the actual fuck?_ **

"With all respect, sir, I already have a plan for tonight."

He glanced up at me with the coldest expression on his face.

"Cancel it, then." He turned a page and didn't care about me anymore.

I needed all of my willpower not to walk up to him and flip the table into his face. With my hands clenched into fists I left his office, closing his door, and walked back to Scott.

"Sorry, I can't go with you tonight. Boss decided I am needed here."

"Aww, too bad", Scott pursed his lips as we started to walk down to the building's buffet. "Maybe tomorrow, then?"

"Yes", I smiled and I felt my phone buzz. I groaned when I saw who called me. "Sorry. I gotta pick this up. Yes, sir, what's the matter?"

"Why aren't you at your desk?"

I rolled my eyes, freely this time. Scott snickered silently and I punched his arm playfully.

"To pick up a cup of coffee, as usual, sir?"

"Come back here this instant. You're not allowed to leave your place."

_I can't believe this man._

"Sir, for three months I went to have a coffee, every day..."

And he knew it, might I add.

"I didn't authorise a break. Get back here, now."

He sounded angrier than a moment before so I sighed.

"Alright." He hung up. I sighed and looked up at Scott apologetically. "Sorry, I have to go back."

"What's up with him today?"

"Dunno, but he's getting on my nerves. Talk to you later, then."

I walked back and dropped myself on my seat, pouting. I decided I'd continue my work. Mycroft's door was wide open, I could hear him typing in there. Thirteen minutes later Scott came back up, carrying two cups of coffee. I shook my head, smiling.

"Here", he had a latte and an espresso with him and placed the latte on my desk. I looked up at Scott gratefully. "Thought I'd bring you one anyway."

"That's very kind of you, thank you so much, Scott." I brought the cup to my lips and sipped it. "Mm, just the way I like it."

"Talk to you later, then", he smiled down at me and turned to leave with his espresso.

"Mr McField, for a word, please."

We didn't notice Mycroft stood at his office's door. I glanced at him but he ignored me. His expression looked unnerving. Scott glanced at me for a moment before he followed Mycroft, the door closing behind them.

Complete silence for six minutes. I couldn't concentrate on my work, so I kept sipping my latte. Then the door suddenly opened and Scott walked out, closing the door behind him. He looked at me and pulled the corners of his lips down in a funny pout. I smirked at him. He mimiced a phone with his hand, putting it to his ear and said silently, _I'll call you_ , and when I showed him an OK sign, he hurried away.

What was this? Why did Mycroft call him to his office? He didn't get in trouble because of me, right?

The remainder of the morning was peaceful. I couldn't wait the clock to tick thirteen, I was so hungry. Just ten before twelve, Mycroft walked out of his office and came to my desk. I looked up at him from my computer screen and stopped typing.

"You can have your one hour long break now."

I blinked up at him, surprised and slightly confused.

"An hour _earlier_ , sir?"

"Obviously." Came the almost annoyed reply.

"Why?" I inquired and he sighed theatrically.

"Just because. Now go or I'll change my mind and you'll have no break at all."

He was **_so_** mean today! I sighed, hibernated my computer, then got my bag up and walked away. He remained there, watching me.

The building's café and restaurant was _deserted_. It seemed everyone had their break at the same time, an hour later. I wondered again; why did Mycroft give me my break an hour earlier? I got my personal phone out of my bag and checked if I had any messages, but no. So I sent one to Scott.

**Can't you get off earlier? I'm having my break now and I'm very lonely.**

While I waited for his reply I ordered myself Cordon Bleu with chips and sat nearby the restaurant.

**Y do u have ur break now?? xx**

**Because boss.**

**Ur boss is weird. xx**

**You tell me. Can you get off please?**

**Nope. Can't do. Catch u later. xx**

I pouted and put my phone down when my food was ready. I ate it slowly, paying attention to chew it thoroughly, stared at the wall and wishing Scott was here with me. He could make me laugh with a look and I suspected he liked to hear me laugh, because he grimaced and joked around so often. I wondered about him, about _us_ ; was this something serious? My previous partner was a prick, hated Ninnie, I kicked him out, but Scott was a kitten person and frankly, he was adorable. A clumsy, lovely giant. I remembered in the pub yesterday I nearly fell off my seat and he caught me while he placed a kiss on my temple, laughing.

I fidgeted in my seat.

When I finished my food, I bought a latte from the café. However I took my time with everything, I was slow, I noticed only twenty minutes passed from my break. I was bored, so I sent a rather bold text to Scott.

**Missing you.**

As I sent it I wondered if he planned anything with me. Gosh he was so cute. I daydreamed a little; how I'd run my fingers in his hair and how he'd smile down at me as I did. I was sure for some reason his hair was like silk to the touch.

**Miss u 2. Wanna go but can't. :( xx**

**It's alright. Promise. We have a lot of time, if you want that too.**

**Ofc u beautiful girl. Smile now 4 me. xx**

I blushed and laughed a little. I finished my latte and put my phone back in my bag as I got to my feet with a sigh. I was planning I'd go back to my corner. What else could I do? Nobody was around to talk to. As I walked back I thought of tonight, how Mycroft managed to sabotage my dinner with Scott. I still was embarrassed and angry about it, but he was my boss and I couldn't say no. I could try, but I was too afraid he'd be mean to me again.

As I sat at my desk and continued to work, a few thoughts spun around in my head about my current situation. _Funny._ It really was funny. I had very special training before I applied for this job. As a matter of fact, I was one of the best in the class, but very few wanted to work in the office, most of my classmates sticked to serve the MI6 and do lots of field work. All secret-y and badass and lots of travelling. But I wasn’t up for that sort of work now. Still, I did the training and applied because even though I had a certain ambition, I decided I’d stay in the shadows. Hidden, even more as an agent. Nobody thinks a cute little secretary could break jaws and shoot as a professional.

Maybe if I was tired of doing everything Mycroft asked me to do, I’d give MI6 my CV. Some people there really liked me and they thought it was a waste I stuck with this… _secretary_ job. But at least, I knew people here trusted me. As I heard and knew, Mycroft was very, **_very_** picky and thorough. I knew there wasn’t a single moment of my life he wasn’t aware of. But then again, I needed to touch most of his job’s material and he had to trust me with everything that was written in those files and e-mails.

I appreciated his trust.

But I hated he treated me like a stupid child.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my seat. I wanted another coffee. Time went by, it was already almost four. Officially, I was working until four, but with Mycroft’s humiliating plans for me, I’ll probably stay here until eight. I remembered the first time I met him; he seemed interesting and a bit intimidating, but I’ve seen worse than him during my training. I was more confident back then. Because in fact, I had no idea how powerful he was. He pretended he was a small cog in the machine, but it was all play and I saw it through after the first week. As a matter of fact, it was amazing it took me a week to figure it out. It should’ve been obvious. After that I understood it would take him one phone call to destroy my entire life.

“Elisabeth”, Mycroft’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I glanced up at him with a cocked brow. “In my office, now.” I looked at the time on my computer. It was 4pm. “Also, switch that off. You won’t need it.”

When he disappeared I took the opportunity to sigh silently and roll my eyes before I switched off my computer and with my bag, I made my way to his office just as he said.

It really was funny. I could shoot an apple off of his head and he’s picking on my goddamn spelling mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check my other story, **Blood, Shed** and **Blind** , too! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I opened Skype to see if anyone sent me anything. There was a new message from a person who just added me. A man with the name IceVeins. I had no idea who it was, but I thought why not.

After he motioned me to sit on one the only chair in front of his, I dropped myself and put my bag with the Union Jack on it in my lap. I glanced at the things closest to me: a paper with words on it, a notebook and a pen.

The look I gave Mycroft was my best _'are you fucking kidding me'_ ever. He didn't appreciate it, I saw, but he still managed an annoying smile.

"One page for each word." He walked back to his seat on the other side of his desk and sat down.

I took a deep breath and I was inches away from getting up to leave, but I decided I'd play along. For now. He was just teasing me, really. I put my bag on the floor next to my feet, brought my chair closer to the desk and glanced at the paper. Then, with a sigh, I opened the notebook, picked up the pen and started to write.

I let my thoughts roam freely though. I wished I could be with Scott now. He always walked me home, even if he lived half an hour away from me, but he never once had the courage to kiss me. I wished he would; maybe that was his plan for tonight, who knew. Too bad it can't happen.

I turned a page and started to write another word. This is how everything is, right? We all turn a page sometimes. We write a page full with something, then we go on to the next. An unending journey to the unknown. And sometimes, someone else writes in our notebook with permanent ink. It never leaves us. Sometimes, they use markers, which bleeds through a few pages. Staying there. Tainting our future. But we eventually move on.

To the next page.

How many pages would Scott write in _my_ notebook? How many would I write into his? As I wondered and drew the letters, not really hurrying anywhere and taking my time to make them look beautiful, for a moment I imagined Scott's face before me, laughing how ridiculous I looked here. Like a child in the school.

I turned a page.

And I wrote it full.

It was easy to lose track of time in Mycroft's office. I didn't look up, he was working on his laptop and I wouldn't see what's the time anyway, he had no clocks above him, just that painting of Elizabeth II. I was a little proud my name was Elisabeth too, though I wrote with s, not z. Probably two hours passed, maybe even more, but I didn't really care. If cooperating now stops Mycroft to be so mean with me, then so be it.

I wondered about today again. It seemed to me as if he tried to get Scott away from me. Now that I thought of this, it was pretty obvious.

"Which word is next?"

He asked, voice calm and gentle. I felt his gaze on me but I didn't look up.

"Thorough."

"Good. That's the last for today."

At this, I stared up at him.

" _For **today**_ ", I echoed and he flashed a smile at me, but it never reached his almost dead eyes.

"Yes. You'll stay tomorrow as well."

I took a deep breath, ready to argue but the way his smile melted away at my expression stopped me from voicing my rather rude opinion. I wanted to yell, and that probably would make _him_ yell, which I wanted to avoid desperately. So I clenched my jaw.

" **Right.** "

"It will be very beneficial to both of us", he assured me when I angrily continued writing.

_"Yeah."_

My thoughts took an interesting turn. I kept thinking how other people were right about him, how he had a chunk of ice where his heart should've been. I suspected he **_knew_** Scott wanted to take me on a date tonight, but I couldn't understand why the Hell he didn't want me to go. I couldn't solve this puzzle and it was in the back of my mind, like an unbearable, annoying, constant _itch_. I couldn't read him. He was good at hiding emotions and thoughts way too well.

I finished 'thorough', put the pen down and closed the notebook. My hand was happy I stopped writing. Mycroft looked up and closed his laptop, leaning forward to reach for the notebook.

"Can I leave?" I asked quietly.

"No."

With a sigh I glanced up at the Queen above his head. _Do you listen to all the bullshit here? How can you not laugh at this situation? You're just as dead inside as your owner, though, in your defense, you're just a **painting**..._

"Well done", he said then, looking up at me. He closed the notebook and placed it in the top drawer of his desk, along with the pen and the paper. Then he closed the drawer and put his arms on his desk, fingers laced together, his look hardening as he looked at me. "I want you to be better."

I crossed my arms, as per the usual, in defense.

"I hope you know, _sir_ , that encouragement instead of scolding and humiliating works much more better."

_Did I really say this?_

"I complimented your work just now." He pointed it out, and I had to agree with him, but didn't say anything. "And, just for curiousity, when did I humiliate you?"

My face fell flat. _Are you kidding me._

"You've been doing that for two weeks by now." _Should I tell him? Shouldn't I? Ah, fuck it._ "And I really don't like when you're yelling at me either."

He blinked, twice, fast. _Doubt._ He had no idea why was I saying this.

"If we're being this _honest_ ", he leaned back again after a few minutes, "just for the record, you work better when you're under pressure."

I clenched my jaw. Again.

"No, I don't. That's when I'm making mistakes. I become clumsy."

"Interesting. You never were clumsy during your training, even though you were under pressure there too."

Why must he be _so_ nosy?

"That's different."

He smiled again.

"How so?"

How the fuck should I tell him I was terrified of him? **Seriously?**

"That was training. This is _real_."

"Nobody's going to hurt you here", he said with a cocked brow which told me, _if you're clever._

I laughed dryly, emotionless. We both knew he could end me with one sentence.

"I really want to go home, sir."

"Alright. You can leave." His eyes flashed. "To home. Not to a pub, or someone else's flat."

I felt the red spread in my cheeks. I wanted to tell him to stay out of my business, but instead I picked up my handbag and turned to leave.

"Manners, Elisabeth“, Mycroft grumbled after me but I didn't look back at him as I opened his door.

"Goodnight, sir."

Without waiting for his reply, I quickly left the office and literally ran. This was the longest day ever and when I checked the time on my personal phone, I saw it was past seven. I was so hungry I had to pick up something at an Indian restaurant and ate it on the way home. Upon arriving, Ninnie ran to me meowing.

"Hey girl", I picked her up and hugged her to myself. I didn't care her fur would stick to my clothes anymore. "I'm sorry I'm late, it wasn't planned."

I dropped my bag and walked to the kitchen, put her down next to her empty bowl and gave her food. I tiredly rubbed my eyes and started to take my clothes off. The perks of living alone. I could be naked all day. I went to have a shower, then wrapped myself in a towel, picked up a beer from the fridge and after I sat on my couch in the living room, I opened and started up my laptop. While I waited, I checked both my personal and my business phone for messages, but there were none. With a sigh, I opened Skype to see if anyone sent me anything. There was a new message from a person who just added me. A man with the name IceVeins. I had no idea who it was, but I thought why not. So I sipped my beer and accepted the request. He messaged me immediately.

**_Good evening. How are you?_ **

I blinked, tiredly, then I started to type.

**Hi. Tired. And you?**

**_Me too. Rough day?_ **

**You can't even imagine.**

**_What's your job?_ **

**I'm a secretary.**

**_Who's your boss?_ **

**If I told you, I'd have to kill you. ;)**

**_Oh, so dangerous. I like that._ **

I smiled.

**And what's your job?**

**_Nothing special. Office worker._ **

**So you're a part of the machine, then. We're alike.**

**_Ah, yes._ **

**Where did you get my contact?**

**_I browsed and saw you lived in London and I'd like to talk to someone near me._ **

**Is something wrong?**

**_No. I just want to have a conversation._ **

**Alright. What do you want to talk about?**

**_What do you like?_ **

I frowned slightly as I thought.

**Cats, coffee, movies, series, books... ordinary things.**

**_What sort of books?_ **

**Lately I've been reading Stephen King.**

**_That's not really the relaxing kind._ **

**Haha, no, it's not. I like the way he writes. Very talented. Good ideas. Chills to the bone. I like how he unfolds his stories.**

**_You really like his writing style, I see. And how do you like your coffee?_ **

**I usually buy myself latte at the café in our building, with three sugar.**

**_I see. And what about your office work? Do you like your boss?_ **

I sighed and drank the last of my beer before I replied. I could lie, but it was good I didn't know this person and I could tell him more than to anyone else.

**I do ordinary things. He's mean.**

**_What do you mean, 'mean'?_ **

**I feel like he hates me.**

My partner went silent for a long time. I checked the weather for tomorrow to see if I had to bring my umbrella, but it seemed I was lucky. Then I checked Skype again when he replied.

**_If he hated you, he'd fire you, don't you think?_ **

I thought about that for a moment. Ninnie jumped up next to me and curled up.

**No. He doesn't trust people easily. He'd need weeks to find another secretary.**

**_How do you know him so well? You can't possibly know._ **

**I'm not stupid. ;) But, if he keeps being abusive, I'd quit.**

**_Abusive? I thought he was just mean._ **

**He is mean. And sometimes, abusive. Rude, even. I hate it when he raises his voice. There are times when I'm afraid to even look at him.**

He went silent for a long time again. My phone buzzed, Scott was calling me. I picked it up, setting it to hands-free mode.

"Hey, Lizzie!"

"Hey, Scott. How are you?"

"I'm fine, I just wanted to know if you arrived home safely. I was worried for you."

"Yes, I made it home safe and sound. And aww, don't worry for me. I'm fine."

He didn't know I had secret agent training. As a matter of fact, I think only Mycroft knew in the office.

"So you wanna go to have dinner somewhere tomorrow then?"

"Can't." I sighed. "Boss needs me tomorrow too. But I have an idea. Are you free on Saturday?"

_Say yes, say yes, say yes..._

"Of course, what's on your mind?"

**_Yesss!_ **

"I could cook something and we could watch a movie at my place?"

"That sounds perfect! Can't wait!" I saw I received a new message on Skype, so I read it before I replied.

**_Why don't you tell him he's upsetting you? He probably would stop. Maybe he doesn't even know. Or he's just stressed out._ **

"Alright, then see you tomorrow. I..." I bit my lip. "Miss you."

"I miss you too, Liz. But Saturday is on the way. Only two more nights to sleep away." I smiled. He was adorable. "Go to bed now, you must be tired. Goodnight, Lizzie."

"Goodnight", I smiled, then he ended the call and I started to write a reply for IceVeins.

**I've been working for him for three months now and he started to act like this two weeks ago. He was a normal boss before. I don't know what did I do.**

**_Does this upset you?_ **

**Yes. A lot. I made a mistake and he hates me for it.**

**_You can't be certain it's your fault._ **

**I see he's upset with me. He's normal to other people but the way he talks to me is very different. I'm not happy I have to go to work again tomorrow. He'll probably lash out at me again for tiny mistakes.**

**_Hmm, I'm really sorry to hear that. I hope you're not right and will have a better day tomorrow. I need to go now. Good night._ **

**Thanks! Good night.**

He went offline. I read the news online then threw out the empty can I had and went to bed, dropping the towel and climbing under my blanket.

The next morning I got my next set of clothes out of my wardrobe. I always kept them in plastic bags to avoid getting fur on it. After I got dressed, I gave more food to Ninnie as usual, pet her, then quickly left home, fifteen minutes earlier than I used to. On the way I picked up my usual croissant. I checked both my phones on the way, but no one sent me messages. I stared ahead while I kept wondering what today had in store for me.

Once I arrived at my corner, I ate my croissant quickly. I had ten minutes left before start, I wanted to have a coffee but didn't dare to leave my place. I switched on my computer and started to read the e-mails sent to Mycroft already.

I was so tired.

Just a couple of minutes before eight, His Highness arrived with his black laptop case and umbrella. I glanced up at him, seeing he still had his coat on and I decided I liked the coat more than who was wearing it.

Ah, bugger.

"Good morning, sir", I told him, but he didn't even look at me, just unlocked the door, opened it wide and walked in.

My mood, which wasn't great anyway, started to worsen. What could be his problem now? What did I do that I didn't deserve at least a greeting? My lips curved down and I continued sorting the e-mails. A bit later I saw from the corner of my eyes he left his office.

I pressed my lips together and tried not to think about him but it was so **_hard_**. Especially because when I started to work here I often daydreamed about him. Because damn, he really was sexy and his voice was a huge turn on for me. Just thinking about how he usually looked like made me fidget in my seat. Though, he so quickly destroyed his image in my head in the past two weeks that I completely let the secretary-boss idea go.

But what could've happened!

Gosh I liked to think he'd take me on his desk. Or the floor. Against the wall. _Anywhere._ While he had the suit on. Now that I thought of it, I felt slightly weird, because I couldn't even imagine him with another human being like that. And that ring on his hand... he probably had someone at home anyway. Someone who knew his kind side, who could make him laugh and calm.

Well. I was _slightly_ jealous.

I gave up on him a day before yesterday though. He's been mean to me anyway, he didn't like me, so I decided I'd stick with Scott. He was kind and good to me, never hurt me, not with deeds or words. As a matter of fact, he deserved better. But I was too selfish and lonely to bother.

I needed Scott. I missed company greatly.

Mycroft came back after a while, but I didn't care about him. I kept typing in a notepad to remember which e-mail came after which, so I'd set up a prioritical order. He walked up to my desk. And, to my shock, placed a cup of latte before me.

I looked up at him. He smiled faintly and I nearly fell under my desk.

"Good morning to you too", he said, then turned around and walked to his office.

I blinked. **_What the fuck?_** Did he really walk down to the café to bring **me** a latte?? I sipped it and hummed with closed eyes. That's... just perfect. He probably asked Scott yesterday how I liked it. Geez. I kept working with a smile on my face now. Both of my phones were on my desk before me and the personal one buzzed. Scott wrote to me.

**Do u need coffee? xx**

**No, thanks. I already got one.**

**Aww. K. xx**

I sighed and the morning went by. Mycroft had visitors, some people from the ministry, so when twelve came around, my business phone buzzed.

**You can have your break now. Mycroft Holmes**

I sighed. I have to talk about this with him, because it’s so bad I could talk to no one during my break. I went down to the restaurant and ordered the same as yesterday. As I absentmindedly chewed on my food slowly, someone walked past by me then walked back and stopped next to my table. I looked up at the man in the long, black coat and I nearly choked on my food.

Oh, Mycroft’s gonna be pissed. 99% of the time he’s pissed if Sherlock’s around.

“Is he in his office?” He asked me. I didn’t ask where did he know I was his secretary even though we never met before. I nodded and Sherlock cocked a brow at me. “But he has someone visiting.” I nodded again and he sat in front of me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Don't answer, just look frightened._

I looked at his face and I saw he was scanning all over my appearance. I wondered what deductions he made about me, but didn’t ask. Then he tilted his head just slightly and narrowed his eyes at me.

“Since when do you work here?” I swallowed my chips and wanted to reply when he suddenly waved at me. “Nevermind, three months.”

I picked up my business phone and typed a message for Mycroft. Then I deleted it. He probably knew anyway. As I put my phone down again, I looked up at Sherlock.

"Ask away", he grumbled. "I can see you have questions."

"How are you?"

He didn't expect this, I saw. He tilted his head slightly. He looked thinner now – compared to the pictures in the newspapers – but his eyes were burning.

"Nevermind. You're high."

"What?"

"The nicotine patches on your forearm, also saw a few bruises, probably from a needle. Your pupils are so wide I can barely see your irises, your hands are trembling even if you try to hide it." I leaned back with a sigh. "You'll make my boss angry."

"Not that bad." He flashed a half smirk. "Why is it a problem I make Mycroft angry?"

"Because he'll take it out on me."

He grimaced as a child would.

"Nope."

"I'm sorry?"

"You worry about him."

I laughed.

"I worry about myself."

"No, you care about many things but never about yourself. Such insight and courage, bottled up in a nice little corner. You shouldn't be here and you know it. You're wasting your time."

"What should I do? Solve crimes with you?" I jested.

"Yes, why not?"

I stared at him, memory of a smile lingering on my lips. Was he serious?

"Would you like a tea, Mr Holmes?"

"Yes. Then answer my question."

I brought my tray back to the restaurant, then walked to the café to ask for a latte and a tea. I glanced at Sherlock and he kept staring at me. _God, the genes they had._ Must both of them be _sexy_ **_and_** _clever?_ It was almost unfair.

I walked back to him with our beverages and he ignored his tea.

"So?"

"The other Mr Holmes wouldn't let me."

"Wrong, he would, and certainly would try to offer payment to give him information about me."

I was well aware of Mycroft's methods concerning those who got closer to Sherlock, so I wasn't surprised.

"He really _is_ worried about you, you know?"

"See, you don't care about yourself, you only talk about my brother." He scoffed. For some reason, it annoyed him. For some reason, _it annoyed **me** too._ "Maybe there's something more underneath?" He took off his gloves and reached for my left wrist. He smirked when I crossed my arms across my chest. "This feels like a confession."

"I'm not overly fond of physical contact."

"I wasn't about to break your wrist."

"No, you wanted to check my pulse. I'm well aware."

"Just making sure." He squinted his eyes at me. "Because in this light it seems when I even utter my dear brother's name, your pupils dilate... is it a crush?"

" _Sherlock_ ", I snapped. "I don’t have a crush on him. There's nothing to see or feel."

He downed his tea in one go.

"…and _wrong_ again."

At these words I got to my feet, picked up my stuff - threw my phones in my bag, holding it with my left hand while I got the latte in my right -, and started to walk back to my place.

But, just to annoy me, Sherlock followed me.

"You're trying though, but he's not the one."

"Who's not the one?" I started to walk up the stairs with him behind me.

"The one you're going out with. He's too boring."

I stopped and faced him.

"Why, would _you_ be interesting enough? Just for laughs, answer me."

He grinned.

" _Yes_."

"Oh God, you're hilarious..."

He grabbed my wrist and I twisted it out of his grasp before I continued walking.

"You like the thrill, don't you? You miss it and I’m stirring it up in you."

"The only thing I miss is peace and quiet."

"Oh don't be boring." I shot him a look above my shoulder. "You work out three times a week to keep yourself in shape, so you just know that some day you'll be tired of the office."

"I might do something drastic if you're not shutting your mouth up."

" _Try me._ I could use some shock right about now. Just to get the blood pumping."

We reached my floor and I walked to my desk to put my handbag on it.

"Hah, nice little corner." He moved to check out my workspace and I saw his brain raced. "This is intriguing..."

"Don't start", I warned him, but he looked at me with a smirk. "I swear Sherlock, I'll shut you up myself..."

"So your regular training is not enough for you, is it? You also check the news every day to see if there's something coming up..." He walked in front of me, towering above me.

" ** _Sherlock_** ", I warned him again, and I decided this would be the last time.

"You're waiting desperately to find something to blow off some steam, my brother dear probably can't satisfy your cravings with this job so I figured my appearance prob—"

He moaned briefly as I grabbed the coat around his neck and pulled him down. His lips crashed against mine and at this, I forcefully kissed him — _what the Hell,_ why did I even do this? I wanted to punch or headbutt him, how did it turn out to be a **_kiss?_** But I had to admit... it was amazing. He was pretty good at it. He ran his fingers in my hair and pushed his tongue against mine, his mouth tasted like tea. _So British._

My legs turned to jelly.

I pulled away and he let me, with a grin on his face.

"—ably would peak your int—"

I pulled him back down and he snickered into my mouth when I shut him up with another kiss. _Goddamn._ This felt good. But I liked more when he initiated it. I pulled away again, then put my finger on his lips when I saw he wanted to talk again.

" **No.** **_Shut up._** "

I heard Mycroft clearing his throat to our right and I went as pale as the wall. For how long was he there? Did he see it all? Holy shit, I was in trouble now.

"Why are you here, brother mine?" He asked and his voice was emotionless.

Sherlock glanced at Mycroft first then at me, my finger still on his lips. I removed it and he immediately turned to face his brother. My stomach clenched as I looked at Mycroft. His expression seemed... **wrong. _Stoic._** _He was in battle mode._ Shit _shit **shit.**_

"Let me explain."

"You better." He let Sherlock in his office and looked at me – and I could only notice one, simple, raw emotion towards me: **RAGE**. "And **_you,_** get to work. **Now!** " He snapped and I lowered my head as he closed the door rather forcefully after himself after he walked back in his office.

My legs shook as I walked to my seat and dropped myself down on it. Would Mycroft deal with me after he was done with Sherlock? My stomach did a backflip. He could might as well fire me.

I swallowed thickly as I started to write a message to Scott. I felt the urge to tell him what happened. Just so he'd know what  a heartless monster was I. I sighed; maybe Sherlock was right and I cared about everyone but myself?

**Hey, Scott. I'm sorry, I have to tell you something. Someone kissed me. I don't want anything from him! But I still wanted you to know... I hope you can forgive me, because I don't want to lose you.**

I bit my lip hard when I sent it. He didn't text me back. I threw my phone back in my handbag and started to type but I didn't really see what I was doing. Sherlock walked out of the office a few minutes later with a smile on his face, and he winked at me as he left. Then Mycroft showed up at the door.

"Come on in", he growled at me and I felt like I wouldn't come out of his office alive if I obeyed and followed him now. When I didn't move, he lashed out loud at me. " **Now!** "

I swallowed and got up from my seat, hurrying to his office, walking past by him fast and stopping in the middle of the room with crossed arms. I couldn't look at him.

" ** _Sit_** ", he ordered coldly and I bit on my tongue, then sat. He walked between me and his desk, leaned against it with crossed arms, his anger rolling off of him in waves, I could literally _feel_ it. I could also smell his cologne, he was too close to me. **Dangerously so.** _"What have you done?!"_ I swallowed. He already was close to yelling. I wrapped my arms around myself tighter. _Don't answer, just look frightened._ I didn't have to try hard as I kept staring at his shoes. " ** _Look at me_** when I'm talking to you!"

The colour left my face and I looked up at him, barely brave enough to hold his gaze. I've never seen him this angry before.

"I'm sorry", I offered quietly.

"You're sorry." Sarcasm were mixed with anger in his voice. "Let me guess, it was an accident? He forced himself on you?" I knew how ridiculously this sounded, but he really did force himself on me. Or _didn't?_ "Do you think I'm completely stupid?!"

"No..."

"No _what?!_ "

I had to look away again.

"No, sir..."

"What did I tell you? **_Look at me!_** " He roared at me now and I wanted to shrink and disappear. I went pale as I obeyed again. "If I _ever_ just get a **hint** ", he lowered his voice but it sounded even more intimidating, "that you're _so much_ as **send a text** to _Sherlock_ , I'll make sure you're wiped out of human history. Do you understand?"

This was a threat. _Oh my God._ A real, honest death threat. Apart from being scared shitless, I was curious now. _Why couldn't I?_ What was his problem with me? Why didn't he allow me to even talk to his brother?

"Yes, sir, I understand."

Mycroft visibly clenched his jaw. He tried to conceal it all he wanted, but he was so angry with me he couldn't really hide it at this point.

 _"Get out of my sight."_ He hissed at me, his eyes still burning with anger.

I got up, feeling like I was outside of my body. I left as quickly as I could, going back to my place. I felt slightly safer there. For a few hours I couldn't calm down and I kept thinking why did this bother Mycroft at all. Alright I never should've kissed anyone here right before his office but it felt like to me not the place was a problem.

I got an e-mail on my personal one from Sherlock. I didn't even read what he wrote, I just deleted it. I realised there was a lump in my throat.

So much trouble for a little fun. I regretted it a thousand times.

As 4pm approached, Mycroft opened his office's door. I could feel he looked at me, but I pretended I was deep in my work.

"Elisabeth." Mycroft seemed much more calm now. I looked at him. I still was scared of him. "Turn off your computer and come in."

 _Oh no._ I wasn't sure I could sit so close to him for the next few hours. I did as I was told though, without a word. I picked up my handbag and walked to the chair where I had to sit. He already put the things on the desk I used yesterday, so without even saying anything to him, I got to work. This way, I didn't need to look at or talk to him at all.

We were silent for hours. This time, I could sense he looked up at me from time to time from his laptop, but I ignored it. I wanted to go home, have a shower and hide in my bed. I never wanted to get up again.

 ** _I'll make sure you're wiped out of human history._** His words echoed in my head and my palms started to get sweaty. Was that kiss so _unforgivable?_ He didn't simply tell me he'd fire me... his words indicated he wanted to get rid of me in every way possible if I got in touch with his brother again. There was a huge difference. While firing a person seemed normal to me in this situation, _'wiping them out'_ didn't.

Why was he so serious about this? Sherlock was an addict but he wasn't dangerous and I was harmless, too. Well, okay, maybe both of us were dangerous, but I didn't want to hurt anyone, though. I only used what I learned when it was absolutely necessary.

"You can stop after that page", Mycroft said as he closed his laptop. I finished writing and pushed the notebook toward him, not looking up. I wanted to run away. He picked up the book and flipped through a few pages, humming. Then he put the things away just as yesterday. I swallowed nervously and I picked up my handbag, just to do something with my hands. "I hope you're aware of the fact that what I said I only said in your defense."

**_What?_ **

"You know, he’s… difficult. I don't want you near him. He's unpredictable." I swallowed. No, he knew I could take care of myself. I could break Sherlock's arm if I wanted to. I was more than capable of keeping myself safe than he gave me credit for but I couldn't put a finger on why he told me this. "I also have a task for you for this weekend."

At this, I glanced up at him. I had my doubts Scott would even talk to me after that message but I still wanted to spend the weekend at home alone. In peace. With my cat.

"I'll pick you up at eight in the morning on Saturday. Pack warm."

The blood left my face once again. I wanted to ask him why and where he would take me, but my voice failed me. The worst feeling was that he didn't even ask if I wanted to go, he just... ordered me.

"Don't worry, you'll get paid."

My eyes darkened. I found my voice.

"Sir, I don't care about money."

"Good", he crossed his arms on his chest and smiled faintly. "One less problem. It'll be a tough task, so I assume you'll change your mind later."

That was it, my curiosity got the best of me. My fears subsided for the time being.

"What task?"

"I'm in the need of an undercover agent."

I straightened my back.

"I'm not an agent."

Mycroft's smile widened.

"Precisely. No one knows anything about you. And no one should."

"Why bring me? You could pick anyone you want."

At this, he slightly narrowed his eyes.

"I don't trust them."

**_What?!_ **

"But you trust _me_?" I blurted out.

"Yes." He replied simply. My heart skipped a beat. "Don't feel flattered. It's only a single occasion. You are to be my ears and eyes there. Report anything suspicious." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Mingle with the guests, charm them. Make them speak. But you'll be needed to sneak around a little. I heard you were the best in that."

I found myself feeling excited. My blood rushed in my veins and I leaned closer slightly. Mycroft probably noticed it because he continued talking.

"We'll go to a secluded area in Northern Ireland. It came to our attention someone got hold of a bomb powerful enough to wipe the island off of the map. You're needed to find evidence about it. All we heard was gossip, but there are troubling signs that shouldn't be ignored." He put his hands on his chair's armrests and cocked a brow at me. "So, will you say yes?"

I thought for a few moments. He probably purposefully didn't go into the details, but I had a question nevertheless.

"And what's my alterego?"

His lips twitched.

"You'll go there with me. Take a guess."

 ** _Oh my God._** We'll pretend I'm his girlfriend or _wife_.

"Alright." I leaned back in the chair again. "My answer is yes. Just this once."

The satisfied look he gave me told me he _knew_ I'd say yes.

"You'll get the necessary papers and such on the way there."

I nodded and planned out the weekend in mind already.

Once again, I thought of Sherlock's words. Maybe he was right about this too... and Scott would be too boring for me?

 

Scott never replied my message. Anywhere. No matter how many times I called, his phone seemed like it was dead and he vanished from all social pages.

He really must've been pissed off with me.

The next day was Friday and Mycroft pushed my break time back to its normal one. That day he was normal with me again and there was a latte waiting for me on my desk when I arrived in the morning. On Fridays I only worked until two, and when that time approached, Mycroft summoned me in his office again. I was a little confused; since yesterday, he seemed much more calm around me.

"I'd like to know if you still want to come", he said as he walked to his chair and sat. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind. I've made a decision."

It seemed that Mycroft wasn’t entirely sure where to put me. He did unpredictable things.

If this wasn’t bad enough, I reacted unpredictable to everything he did.

If he moved, I moved.

It wasn’t hard to notice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hello world, welcome me, Mrs Holmes._

I furiously packed my _toys_.

Ninnie kept watching me from one of my armchairs as I put as many things away as possible. The evening seemed to rush by. I had to ask my neighbor to watch my cat, which she agreed to, so it was alright. At least she’d be safe.

I wondered if I’d be safe, too.

Since Mycroft hinted at the fact I was the most suitable for this sort of thing, I figured it wouldn’t be easy. So I prepared myself both mentally and physically for everything. I left my Last Will in one of my favourite books which I left on the coffee table. Would I come back alive, or not? Mycroft probably would be able to make it out alive. He was clever and he used everything he had at his disposal to survive everything he had to face.

I didn’t really worry about him, but I didn’t worry about myself either. I couldn’t help but feel like a child at Christmas – I couldn’t wait for it to be morning.

Luckily I fell asleep quickly and woke up just in time for another shower while I was rethinking what I need to bring with myself. Just a minute before eight I gave my neighbor my cat and ran down the stairs with my black suitcase in hand. The black car just arrived and the driver opened the door for me, taking my suitcase from me.

“Good morning”, Mycroft glanced at me when I sat next to him. I leaned back in the seat and opened my jacket as I greeted him. It was warm inside. We took off immediately. “Here are your papers”, he handed me an envelope.

I opened it and checked out the contents. Passport, ID, driver’s license. Everything way too crispy new, but the passport already had a few stamps in it. Good. It’s less suspicious this way. I hummed as I looked at my face, the picture apparently was taken from my CV I gave to Mycroft ages ago. But my name… well…

_Hello world, welcome me, Mrs Holmes._

I glanced at Mycroft who was observing my face while I checked out my papers and flashed a smile immediately when our eyes met. He wanted to know how I reacted to all of this. All in all, I was rather flattered. _Mrs Holmes._ Mrs Elisabeth Holmes. I liked how it sounded, even if it was just a cover.

“Do I get a ring?” I joked and his smile widened as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a gold band, just like the one he was wearing. He handed it to me and I took it, observing the material, the weight of it. For some reason, it felt wrong. I frowned slightly at the markings inside and I glanced back at Mycroft’s face, his eyes bearing thousands of mysteries in. “Is it just like yours?”

“ ** _Exactly_** the same.”

I observed it again.

“Let me guess. If I swallowed this, I wouldn’t be breathing in a few minutes.”

“Fascinating”, he tilted his head slightly.

 ** _Holy bloody fucking shit._** I was right. He wore a suicide pill on his person all the bloody time? _Is this even real?_ But then… why wouldn’t it be real? His head was full of secrets no one should know, his knowledge could fall into the wrong hands and if it ever did, he’d have a way to escape. Without saying anything, he grabbed my hands, took the gold band from me, then he slid it on my right ring finger. I looked up at him just when he glanced at my face again.

“Welcome to the family, Mrs Elisabeth Holmes”, he smiled slightly, eyes shining with a certain light and I was sure the car got much hotter.

“I expected a party”, I pouted playfully. I was much lighter now than yesterday, all my fears about him disappeared. Now, we were partners. Sort of. We were in this together and the thought that he was my boss and he was above me ceased to exist. “And a cake.”

“We agreed we’d keep it quiet”, he cocked a brow. “I’m not overly fond of people.”

“Right. After all, you work with them all day. So we grabbed two people, quickly signed the papers and that was it.”

“Yes.”

“Swift and sweet.” I glanced in my passport again. “And it appears we went on a honeymoon.”

“Paris, two weeks.”

“I loved the baguette.”

“We went sightseeing.”

“I cried when I saw the original Van Gogh paintings in the Louvre.” I smiled, sadly. "Pity I never did."

Mycroft hummed, but didn't say anything.

 _So I could be the emotional counterpart,_ I looked out of the window, I frowned slightly. _I could work with this._

It's better if my character is kind and cute. People open up easier. I could sweet talk myself out of bad situations. I thought this would be easy peasy.

**I had no idea how hard Mycroft would make it for me and how he'd literally try and butcher the job.**

We got on a private plane and were served brunch. As I ate myself through the menu, I kept browsing John Watson's blog on my phone. I loved his entries.

"You're sure you want to eat all of that?" I heard Mycroft ask me and I glanced up at him with a cocked brow.

"I just received a wedding ring, which actually is a suicide pill. This may be my last brunch."

I stabbed my omelet. He crooked his nose as I stuffed my face again.

"I'll get you out, whatever happens." He narrowed his eyes at me. "But you better don't screw it up."

"I never screw things up."

Mycroft hummed again and sipped his tea. I took in the sight of him as he sat on the other side of the table between us; his dark blue, pinstriped suit with the waistcoat, the golden chain of his pocket watch attached to one of his buttons, the crisp white shirt and the red, silk tie... he was all business. And sexiness. I smirked to myself as I downed a glass of orange juice.

_I had one sexy husband._

I entertained myself with a few wonderful images in my head; mainly, what would I do to him now if he really was my husband. Of course, they never would come true, but I was allowed to think whatever I wanted and these thoughts made me feel happier. ~~And hornier.~~

I noticed he seized me up just as I did with him a second before and I wondered if I was just as delicious to him as he was to me. I had my doubts. He didn't seem a kind of person to me who'd have... well, sex. It was an interesting thought though. But I still noticed he left his glance a few seconds longer on my neck. I had my hair in a bun on the top of my head and my attire was just as formal as usually in the office, nothing special, but today I left the top button unbuttoned and my neck with my collarbone was exposed.

If Mycroft Holmes, the _Iceman_ left his eyes longer on me than needed, then anyone would, and I was about to use this to my advantage.

It took the plane a while, but we arrived eventually. What was the word Mycroft used? _Secluded area._ Well... there was literally nothing around just the woods and the sea near the huge, three story house. We both got up; I put my coat on as Mycroft did the same. He walked over to me.

"Don't forget. Stay professional." He warned me once more.

I cocked a brow.

"You, too. Now give me your arm, _husband of mine_."

Did I imagine that blush on his cheeks? I probably did, the Iceman never blushes. But oh **_frick_** , _he **did**! He fucking **blushed**!! _ He was careful not to show emotion as he held his right arm for me, but he couldn't hide the redness. I didn't mention it as I gently got a hold of him, feeling my own cheeks burn.

Oh bugger, we should've had a rehearsal. Both of us looked like we were _virgins_.

For some reason I couldn't stop thinking _holy shit what if he's a virgin??_ That'd be **hilarious**.

We got off of the plane safely and were greeted by a man – obviously the owner of the place judging by his attire, posture and fucking posh accent – called Andrew Hill. Andrew was rather skinny, had spiky brown hair and clever, bright blue eyes. Shame he was on the wrong side. He had a small chat with Mycroft and I let them, smiling at Andrew sweetly when Mycroft introduced me to him.

Andrew apparently, kept his eyes more on me than Mycroft. And, for some reason, the British Government's arm stiffened under my hand and his clothes. Only more, when Andrew held a hand out to me, to which I gave him my right, knowing I'd get a kiss on it.

"You're beautiful, Mrs Holmes", he cooed and I batted my eyelashes at him as he kissed my hand.

"Thank you, Mr Hill." I replied sweetly, thinking, _yes, **yes** , my ticket to a completed mission, this moron fancies me, this isn't mere kindness, **this** **is** **flirting**._

"I hope your journey wasn't at all unpleasant."

"Oh, no. You know, my dear Mycroft always looks after me."

Well, _"my dear Mycroft"_ was as stiff as a fucking board next to me and I gave his arm a squeeze to warn him to get his shit together. We needed to _act_. To feed this man a story. What the frick was he doing?!

"Ah, what a lucky man, to look after such a gorgeous woman like yourself!" Andrew sighed theatrically and while I only smiled politely and even managed to blush, I laughed in my head. _Oh this'll be fun. I'll have so much fun with this man._ "However, I'd love to satisfy some of your needs myself, while you're here."

 ** _Whoa._** He really was flirting hard. He probably thought he could say what he wanted. Actually, he really did. Mycroft cleared his throat and I looked at him.

**_Aw, frick!_ **

I knew this expression. This was the one he had on before he unleashed his wrath.

_Quick, I need to get him out of this state, before he ruins everything._

"I'm sure husband of mine will be happy about that", I mused, squeezing his arm a little more and pecking Mycroft's cheek. "Sometimes I do get on his nerves with my requests."

“That, you do”, he grumbled.

We were out in the open, I couldn't step on his foot, but I wanted to, so badly. What was going on in his head? The gentle kiss seemed to kick him out of his full battle mode, he nodded, smiling and breaking eye contact with Andrew and looking at me. Finally. **_Welcome back._**

“Maybe I could free you from some burden”, Andrew teased.

"That'd be nice for a change", Mycroft’s voice was gentle, but his gaze said **MURDER**.

Andrew laughed quietly. He didn’t see what I did.

"Please do follow me, and enlighten me Mrs Holmes, how did you meet Mycroft? I'd love to hear the story."

As we walked after him, I glanced at Mycroft and he cocked a brow at me. **_How_** _, really?_

"At a party held by the PM", I replied then. He nodded just slightly. "We had a little chat. He completely charmed me with his intelligence."

Now, he was rather fucking terrifying. He was giving me **the look** again. I was sure I'd get a scolding later.

But for the love of God, why? This was just a play.

"I honestly never thought he had it in him, to be able to seduce someone so beautiful like you", Andrew looked back above his shoulder with a little chuckle. Well, that was **rude**. "He always seemed like... he appreciated being alone."

"Ah, he still appreciates, yes. And he works a lot of course."

"And what do _you_ do?"

"Oh, I'm an author. So I spend a lot of time home alone, I write a lot."

This always was my favourite cover story.

"Really? And your works are getting published as well?"

"Of course, but I'm not giving away my pen name. I'm shy about it."

Andrew was eating every bit I fed him with and he _loved it._ He opened the door for us and we walked into the warmth.

"So you're spending a lot of time away from each other?" Andrew cocked a brow at me with a mischievous smirk. "And you said you had many, _many_ requests..." ** _Oh no, you don't. You really shouldn’t._** "Can Mycroft even keep up with your needs?"

 _Holy shit._ I blushed deeply and bit my lower lip. This wasn't acting now on my part. I wasn't prepared for this, I didn't expect Andrew would go this far. But he **did**.

"Well", I cleared my throat and broke eye contact myself. Mycroft's arm was so hard under my fingers I was sure he had to hold himself back from lashing out. But I needed this moron to take me where he kept his secrets and it was inevitable. I had to. So I kept my gaze down and whispered, " _sometimes._ "

This silence was interesting. I could feel Mycroft was seething silently, Andrew, on the other hand, was too amused with all of he thought about us to notice. What he saw now was a young woman, married to a workaholic who couldn't quite satisfy her in the bed.

And he fucking _believed it_. It was easier than I thought.

"Just give me a call if you're too bored", he grinned at me again and I looked up at him innocently. "I'd be more than happy to pop in for a chat."

Of course, _a **chat**._ Like it wasn't obvious he'd fuck me stupid. This situation was disgusting. **_Men…_** and their pathetic need to show off their talents in bed. It was even worse when said talents _didn’t even exist_.

"Thank you, Andrew", I smiled at him, "be sure to give me your number."

"Alright." We stopped walking down the corridor and he nodded at the door to his left. "Here's your room. Please do make yourself comfortable. We still have a lot of time until the party starts; someone will come to escort you. I'll also send lunch for the both of you."

"Thank you", Mycroft replied as he opened the door for us. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to talk to **my** **_wife_**."

I glanced at Andrew who gave me an amused look and I pursed my lips, indicating I was in trouble indeed. The worst part was, I _really_ was in trouble.

"I understand. I'll leave you to it. Later, then."

Mycroft let me go forward before he closed the door behind himself, a little bit with too much force. I didn't really care as I was too occupied with searching for gadgets at the ‘popular’ hiding places. There were, luckily, none. I looked around once more. This room was richly furnished, there was a king sized bed, a sofa, armchairs, giant telly, fire pit. _Wait a fucking moment..._ **king sized bed.** _Oh **shit**._

"What do you think you're doing?" Mycroft hissed as he started to take off his black leathered gloves.

"This moron gives away everything if I flirt a little", I automatically defended myself. _Why?_ Must I really be afraid of him now? Did I take it too far? The way Mycroft looked at me chilled me to the bone. "It's not like we're really married, I mean _come on_. It's just acting."

“You humiliated me.”

“Do you want the files or not?” I challenged. When he remained silent, I dropped my coat on one of the armchairs. “He’ll take me to his office and I’ll get them, I assure you.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. I could see his mind worked a thousand miles a second and he quickly figured out what my plan was. Actually… it was amazing.

“You’re planning to play this out?” There it was, he started to raise his voice. “All of it?!”

I sighed and I dropped myself on the edge of the bed to get my shoes off.

“Obviously not. And even if I did, why would you care?”

He literally snarled now.

“ ** _Manners,_** Elisabeth. I’m still your boss.”

“No, seriously, this is just an undercover mission. Andrew obviously wants me for himself; he wouldn’t taint your reputation with ill gossip. He’s not that kind of a man. And what I do to achieve the files is my business.”

“I don’t agree to your plan.”

I leaned back on the bed, relying on my hands with a deep sigh. Did he really think I’d let him sabotage my work? I already had it planned out. Must I really take him out of the way? He wouldn’t cooperate.

“ _Sir_ ”, I sighed, “you’re making it difficult.”

“You should’ve told me what your plan was.”

“Oh my God, **_really_**?!” I tilted my head up in annoyance and stared at the ceiling above.

“Yes, really”, he snapped. There was a knock on the door. Mycroft walked over there and literally tore it open. A startled woman stood on the other side. “ ** _What?_** ” He scowled.

“Sir, I… your luggages.”

“Bring them in then leave immediately.”

The woman looked at me frightened and I flashed her a friendly smile. She quickly brought in our suitcases and left them at one of the armchairs.

“Thank you”, I told her and she looked slightly less scared.

“Ma’am”, she nodded and quickly left.

Mycroft closed the door, again, with too much force. He turned back to me with a determined look on his face.

“I cancel the mission.” He stated coldly.

I buried my face in my hands.

“I can’t understand him, what the frick am I doing wrong…”

“You can’t just give yourself to him!” He stated as I looked back up at him, “I don’t allow it.”

I nearly laughed as I looked back up at his face. _He doesn’t **allow** it._ **Oh God.** What could he possibly think, who was he, my father, or really my husband or something?!

“Do you think I’d sink **_so_** _low_?” I barked back, really annoyed and even hurt now. I never spoke back to him like this. “Do you really think I’d let myself **fucked** by a **_stranger_** , **here** , _tonight?!_ ” The way I replied slightly took him aback. He looked embarrassed when he realized I wasn’t about to do this. “Do me a favour, sir, and **don’t. Think.** ”

I got up and walked over to him to get my suitcase in my hand. I sat at one of the armchairs and started to get out my laptop. I looked up at Mycroft and he had his phone in his hand. He looked at me momentarily before he sat in the other armchair, still seething silently.

And, of course, he never apologised.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mycroft won't be happy **at all.**_

As I got ready for the party, I made sure everything was in place on me. I walked out of the bathroom as I tried to find my phone in my tiny black handbag. I didn't realise Mycroft was already waiting for me as he sat on the sofa.

"That took a while", he commented and I looked up at him. He flashed a smile at me. "But I see now, why."

He was in a tuxedo, simple and pretty cool, while I had a black, long, elegant satin dress... without a bra. It could've been comfortable if I didn't need to stuff lots of things there. Ah well. Next time maybe, I won't have to do this.

"Can you notice anything unusual on me, sir?" I asked with a cocked brow and Mycroft frowned just slightly as he scanned my form again.

"No." I smiled, wide, and he frowned even more. "Should I?"

"Not at all", I checked my phone. If Mycroft didn't notice anything, then nobody else would. He had an eye of an eagle. "When?"

"Any second now." He got up from his seat and walked up to me. I put my phone in my tiny bag and looked at him again. "Listen, I..." He went silent and I kept waiting. He cleared his throat. "Just be careful. Okay?"

I took a deep breath and pulled on the sides of his bowtie. Not like it needed it, but I could avoid looking in his eyes.

"If I didn't know Mycroft Holmes better, I'd say he's worried now."

He hummed again and got a hold of my hands. I still wasn't used to his touch, I mean _hot damn,_ his skin was so soft and warm _and..._ I looked up in his eyes. I wished I could read him as much as he read me.

"Sometimes, **_rarely_** _,_ yes."

I blinked at his words. Was he really? He suddenly let me go when we heard the knock, he went there to open it. Turned out our guide arrived.

It seemed down the corridor the other rooms were filled with other guests. We made our way down the stairs to a vast ballroom. There was food and drink, soft light, music. My hand twitched on Mycroft's arm. So _these_ were the parties he went to. How could he even _survive_ these parties? Something seemed off to me about it, but I guessed if Mycroft was invited, it shouldn’t surprise me that all sorts of important politicans were here too. The more we stayed, the more people Mycroft introduced me to, and I did my best to be good company. My boss, now, at the first hour seemed rather pleased with my efforts and we pulled off the “husband-wife” scheme perfectly.

_It went **too** well so far, I have to admit now, later._

We talked to Mr and Mrs Afton whose kids – Lily and James – ran around our legs. I laughed at them and initiated a cupcake eating contest, which the kids loved, because I let them win. Their mother mentioned I was good with kids and that most of the time, the little ones would rather cause trouble to those who talked to them. When they walked away, Mycroft turned to me to say something – and that was the second Andrew showed up.

He was very elegant, just as Mycroft, in his own tuxedo. I felt Mycroft moved closer to me, perhaps without even knowing it, as we greeted our host.

“May I have this dance?” Andrew smiled at me and held a hand out for me.

I looked at Mycroft, because at this, his arm became as hard as a rock. I smiled at him, as if I was asking. _Let me,_ I thought, _let me, and we’ll have proof in a blink._ When he nodded slightly, I let out a relieved sigh and slipped my hand off of his arm to put it in Andrew’s hand.

He led me to the center where a few couples danced already. It was a slow song, so I slipped my hands on his shoulders automatically. He smiled at me as he snaked his arms around my waist, holding me close as we started to dance.

“So”, he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. Gosh I had to admit he was handsome and his voice was sexy. I almost felt sorry for him. “How do you like it here?”

“It’s alright, I think”, I smiled, “but perhaps, I should ask for another room. My husband was very angry with me after we retired to our room.”

“Was he?” Andrew seemed I entertained him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “We argue a lot.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, he can’t really understand I’d like to spend more time with him.” Andrew pursed his lips. I looked up at him from under my eyelashes. “And lashes out when I flirt with handsome men like you.”

“Oh.” **_Gotcha._** He liked it. “I hope he didn’t hurt you, though.”

“Ah”, I did my best to blush. And I succeeded. “I really like it when he’s rough. But, sadly, he was in a too bad mood and didn't want to release the stress."

"And did you want to?"

I bit my lower lip, looking innocent.

"I still want to", I whispered to him and his brown eyes widened slightly. His pupils' dilated. "But he wouldn't help me with it, not right now."

"Well... I'd offer myself... but since you're married to him..."

I was about to reply something when I heard someone clearing his throat behind me. Andrew blinked and I sighed. _God fucking no._ I was **inches** away.

"Come with me, **now**."

At Mycroft's voice, Andrew's hand slipped off of my waist and I released him too before I turned to face the boss. I shot him an annoyed, very angry look, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the exit.

"Mycroft!" I gasped as he pulled me through forcefully the crowd, up the stairs and back to our room. "Let me go!"

He didn't reply. He opened the room, pulled me in with him and shut the door behind me. I stared at him, tried to figure him out, but he was unreadable to me. All I saw on his face was irritation and mistery.

"Sir, please", I tried again, gently, "why are you doing this?"

He got his phone out of his pocket and sat in one of the armchairs. I clenched my jaw.

"Why did you bring me here and give me this job if you're not letting me finish it?"

He didn't reply, he didn't even look up. _Alright,_ I thought, _then he's in my way._ I straightened my back and walked to the minibar. I poured him a glass of whiskey with my right hand — while I smeared something on the edge of the glass with my left index finger. I brought the drink back to him. He looked up at me with an annoyed face.

**_Oh_ ** _I **hate** his **stupid** face._

"It's fine, forget it. Let's have a drink", I offered. He took the glass from me, and leaned back with a sigh. "Don't worry, we'll think of a way to get what we need."

"Yes", he grumbled, as I walked back to the minibar to pour myself a drink, too. "But it won't include you in the frontline."

I smiled to myself as I walked back to him and sat in the other chair. I raised my glass.

" _Never again in the frontline_ ", I smiled at him, and he nodded, his glass touching mine momentarily before we both sipped our drinks.

The effect showed itself immediately. I saw recognition in Mycroft's clever eyes, but it was too late for him.

"Elis... a... beth..."

I touched his hand and took the glass from him. He grabbed my wrist hard.

"Ssh, it's alright, Mycroft." I soothed him with a smile. "Sleep it off."

He fought it, I saw, but couldn't keep up for long. His eyes closed and he was fast asleep like a baby a second later. His hold on me loosened immediately.

"I'm sorry", I mumbled to him. I stood and smiled at his form. "By the time you wake up, I'll have what you asked of me. Promise."

I stroked his hand and left the room, locking him up, just in case. In the empty corridor, I prepared myself mentally for the next step. Mycroft made it harder for me with this, but I could use it to my advantage, too. I imagined horrible things – I had a few in store – and I was crying in a few moments as I walked down the corridor again.

I walked back to the stairs, where my luck showed up in the form of Andrew Hill. When he saw me, I saw concern on his face.

"Elisabeth", he rushed to me and got a hold of my hands gently as I sobbed uncontrollably, "what happened?" I shook my head and didn't speak. I turned away so he wouldn't see me cry. He gently pulled me into a hug and I let him, hiding my face in his chest. He rubbed my back. "It's alright."

"I... I... don't want to be with him anymore", I sobbed and he was holding me tighter. "He's horrible..."

"It's alright... let's just... come on, I have a place where we can talk."

He led me through the house and I memorised the route. He opened a door and it was obviously his office. Once we were inside, he locked the door behind us.

"It's fine, we're safe here. He can't find you now. Now tell me, what happened?"

He offered me a handkerchief and I pulled slightly away to dry my tears.

"He said awful things to me..." I shook my head and continued crying. "I don't say I didn't deserve it, but..."

"You've done nothing wrong." Andrew slipped a hand under my chin and lifted my head up. I looked up at him, eyes filled with tears. "He probably doesn't even know what he loses if he pushes you away like that."

"Really?" I sniffed.

"Really", he smiled.

I calmed down a little and slowly examined his face, my eyes wandering down his nose to his lips. I saw he swallowed and I bit my lower lip. He reacted just as I wanted.

"You're a wonderful person and you deserve to be treated like a goddess, at least", he whispered to me and I managed a blush.

"No, you're just saying this so I'd stop crying... you lie, just as he does!"

"I'd never lie to you", his breath was hot on my face. He was so close to me. "Even now... I want to kiss you. Do you think it's a lie?"

"How do I know?" I whined quietly.

"I'll prove it."

He moved his head towards mine and I put my left index finger on his lips.

Then — he did something I didn't anticipate.

He literally let my finger into his mouth and sucked on it. As I stared at him, surprised, he chuckled.

"Hmm?"

A second later his eyes were closed and he collapsed on me. It seemed he was more vulnerable to it than Mycroft. With a groan, I slipped my arms under his, and carried him behind his desk to put him down on his chair. I panted, then started to look around. Ten minutes later I found a safe behind him, just under the painting I removed.

I stared at the numbers with a smile and I got out a few gadgets from my boobs. Literally, my boobs. I snickered as I worked with the numbers, listening to the ticks and sighing with relief when it opened.

Inside, I found what I was looking for. I read through a few before I made pictures of them and I was pale when I was finished.

_Mycroft won't be happy **at all**._

I locked the safe back, put the painting back to it's place, then put my things away. God it was so uncomfortable. Then I got out a little glass vial and after I opened it, I poured its contents in Andrew's mouth.

"Andrew? Andrew, can you hear me?" I kept patting his face. I was as white as alabaster, though it wasn't intentional this time. He started to wake up, the drug's effects wearing off slowly. "Oh God I'm so happy you're awake!"

"What... what happened?" He glanced up at me, still half asleep.

"You fainted!" I said worried, "are you alright?"

"Yes I... remember... I walked up the stairs... how did I get here? Why are you here?"

"You brought me with you. You even locked the door. I was crying and you tried to comfort me."

I couldn't believe my luck. He believed me again. Of course he remembered fragments, but the truth I told him were the same he knew I wasn't lying. My hands were cold and trembling as I got hold of his.

"I even called for help but no one came."

"Yeah, they're... underground."

_Yes, I know. You sneaky fucking bastard._

"How many men do you have here guarding you?"

"Twenty-three", he smiled faintly as he straightened his back.

"And what's the point having them all if they aren't around to aid you in need?"

His smile widened and he stroked my cheek.

"You were with me."

I sighed and got to my feet, letting him go.

"I'm sorry", I told him. "I never should've came here. And you were right. I really should stay with Mycroft... and I really should talk about my feelings to him." He stared at me and his jaw hung open.

"What...? I did... say that?"

I smiled down at him.

"Yes you did. Then you passed out. Seriously, you could've injured if I didn't catch you."

"Thanks. I guess..."

"No. I thank you. You just saved my marriage." I pressed a gentle kiss on his temple and he moved his head to catch my lips but I quickly retreated. "I'll go back to him, now. Please open the door?"

He looked defeated as he got up, still visibly dizzy, but he did what I asked of him.

"You're so sweet, Andrew", I stroked his face and he smiled faintly. "I hope happiness finds you."

_No, I hope justice finds you in the shape of Mycroft Holmes._

I hurried back to our room. When I entered, I noticed Mycroft was still in the chair — exactly where and how I left him. I put my handbag down and fished out another glass vial from my suitcase, making him drink it. I knew he'd be pissed at me, but what I found was more important.

He woke up a few minutes later. First, he started to growl, annoyed, a hand of his slipped on his face to rub it. I sat in the chair next to him and prepared myself.

I knew he'd unleash his fury on me the moment he realised what happened.

With a grumble, he looked up. His eyes immediately found me and he clawed into the armrests to pull himself up in the chair. He couldn't, yet.

" ** _You..._** "

The way he said that scared me. I needed all of my cool not to shake. Really, I've been to Andrew's office, who should've been far more dangerous than anyone here, and I was afraid of Mycroft?

Truly intriguing indeed.

"Listen to me..."

" _You **drugged** me..._ "

"Please, sir..."

"You _disobeyed_ my **_command_**..."

" _Mycroft!_ " I exclaimed and he finally shut up. "Please, just look. I found proof."

I gave him my phone with the pictures in. As his eyes quickly read through them, I sighed and leaned back in the chair. He, on the other hand, straightened his back and started to call someone on his phone while he still read.

His tone changed completely. He barked code names and code words fast and I honestly couldn't understand a word of what he said. After he finished the call, he looked at me again with wrath in his eyes.

"I'm not done with you yet." He put his phone back in his pocket. At his words, my stomach clenched. "How did you _even_ have the **courage** to **_disobey_** me?!" He hissed at me and got to his feet. I felt a lump in my throat as he towered above me and I thought _damn_ , did I really upset him this much? That he couldn't let it go? I mean, I did right, didn't I? I got him proof and I survived, why couldn't he be nice? " _What_ were you _thinking?!"_

I looked up at him with an empty expression to cover I was scared as Hell.

"I told you I'm not an agent. I don't follow orders."

" ** _YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED!_** " He roared at me and I immediately covered my ears with my hands and cowered.

"No... no, please", I whined as I shrunk back in my seat. "Don't... don't yell..."

Mycroft walked away from me and I felt he dropped my coat on me. I looked up, shaking. He put his own coat on. When he talked again, he sounded much more calm.

"Get up. We're leaving."

"But..."

"Do you want me to yell again?" He threatened and I gulped, getting my coat on and standing up instead. I picked up my suitcase with my right, he grabbed his with his left, then got a hold of my left arm to guide me outside. "We still have time before my men arrive. I'll send you back to London."

"And what about you? You can't stay here..." I tried to argue, weakly, and he shook his head.

" **Don't.** _Even._ **_Try._** " He gave my arm a gentle squeeze as we rushed down the stairs. "You aren't safe here."

"You aren't safe here either..."

"I daresay I know what am I doing..."

I opened my mouth to reply when a familiar voice ahead chilled me to the bone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “My name is _Bond._ **Liz Bond.** ”

"Oh, Elisabeth..." Andrew sighed and walked before us with two men who held guns in their hands. Mycroft stopped rather abruptly, his fingers painfully squeezed my arm. I didn't react. "Tsk-tsk-tsk... tell me how did you get in my safe, dear."

"I didn't." I replied. I felt Mycroft's hand tighten on my arm. "Honest."

Andrew smiled at me. _Devilishly._ He knew I did, but how?

"I'll have so much fun breaking you in, you know. I'll make you scream so loud with pain and agony you'll **lose** your voice."

I swallowed. I've been threatened before. And I survived it before. So I held my ground.

"I'm not really a screamer", I shrugged and his eyes wandered on Mycroft.

"You _knew_ ", Andrew crossed his arms on his chest with a grin. "You brought here a fucking spy. It wasn't really wise of you."

"He didn't know", I snapped before Mycroft could say anything, "he had no idea who I was and who I worked for."

"Oh, Elisabeth... Mycroft _always_ knows **_everything_**."

He took a step towards us and we moved with Mycroft simultaneously. He wanted to step in front of me, while I wanted to do the same. We looked at each other. His gaze was determined.

"Actually", I sighed, dropping my suitcase and reaching for the lipstick in my dress. As I pulled it out, I felt again Mycroft's hand twitch on me and Andrew's guards pointed their guns at me. I almost gently applied my lipstick, then put it back where I got it from. "I thought you'd be more fun, Andrew. I am severely disappointed. From what I gathered, I thought you were a tough one."

He smiled, annoyed.

"I'll break your fucking jaw."

"Let us go", Mycroft offered quietly, "I can still get you out of this."

Andrew laughed dryly.

"What makes you think I want to get out of it?"

"What did they offer you, money? Is it worth it?"

"Do you know what's worth it? **_Destroying you._** " Andrew stepped closer to us again and suddenly grabbed my throat. I gasped, tried to move away and Mycroft immediately dropped his suitcase to help me. A guard interrupted, pushing him away from us as I still pretended to choke in Andrew's grasp. "Oh yes, _this..._ is interesting. You like this girl. I bet she's not your wife, but you _do_ like her."

"Let her go!"

Andrew laughed as he faced Mycroft.

"I'll make sure you hear how I make her scream as I break her bones. You can also watch how I'll decorate her pretty face with my knife." Mycroft swallowed, this time, with a snarl.

"That would be the **worst** mistake of your **_entire_** _pathetic existence_ ", he whispered.

"The worst mistake was me trusting her. But I'll make it up for myself. You", he looked at one of the guards, "go and see how are the guests. You, on the other hand, will escort Mr Holmes where we'll have fun."

He yanked me towards the corridor where our room was. He opened the door while the guard and Mycroft stopped before it.

I realised now why Mycroft said something worse could happen to me than death. But I wasn't afraid. Not yet. As Andrew let me go I coughed and fell against the armchair. He got his gun out and pointed it at my head with a smile. I swallowed nervously but refused to show I was in panic. My training kicked in.

As I was still very close to him, I only had to reach out for his arm. He didn't shoot me yet.

"Don't.” I whispered to him. “You're better than this."

He flashed an annoyed smile. I got closer to him, slipped a hand on his cheek.

"By the morning you'll be dead. I'll have fun with you tonight... but then I'll kill you."

I knew he was all talk, he was weak. He threatened too much and still did nothing. I caressed his cheek and stepped closer to him.

"Get undressed, now."

"Oh, Andrew", I smiled at him. "You don't have to force me."

I kissed his lips gently and he moaned in my mouth, sucking my lower lip in. Meanwhile, I got a hold of his hand with the gun and took it from him as his form fell to the ground with a **THUMP**.

"Boss?" The guard asked outside. "Is everything alright?"

"I guess he needs some help", I called out, and I heard a few moans, then there was another **THUMP**.

"Elisabeth?" Mycroft walked to the entrance to show himself. The guy’s gun was in his hand. _He fucking knocked out that man with the gun, **bare handed,** and there wasn’t a single crease on his tuxedo. _ I was amazed. He, on the other hand, seemed amazed with what I did to Andrew. "The _lipstick_. I should've known."

"Sorry", I grimaced as I rushed out to check the guard. He was unconscious.

"No, it's alright. Actually..." I looked at Mycroft. He gave me the gun and I took it gladly as he smiled at me. "It was very clever."

"Wow, I have to write this in my diary. Mycroft Holmes said I was _very clever._ "

We laughed, then we both leaned down and grabbed the guard's leg to pull him in the room. Mycroft closed the door.

"It seems someone told Andrew you called your men here, he didn’t remember the details at all", I mumbled, searching through both of them. I took a few extra clips from the guard. I found a handcuff. I sighed, grabbing their arms and dragging them to the bathroom with Mycroft’s help. They were so heavy, but I was glad I still worked out at home, because I didn't even sweat. I handcuffed them under the sink. Mycroft stood up and I saw he was thinking.

"There's only a selected few who know about this."

"Then it'll be easier to figure out who was it." I shrugged, then Andrew's phone started to ring. I took it from him and looked at the screen. 'M' was calling. "Well. Should we pick this up?"

Mycroft walked next to me and accepted the call, putting it on handsfree mode so we'd both hear.

“You **UUU** 've been **_VEEERY_** _naaaaughty_ , Andrew!" I felt Mycroft freeze completely next to me. When I looked at him, I saw he went as white as the wall. _He **knew** this man, _ I figured. "I _nooow_ need to **activate** _theeeeeee_ **_BOMB!_** " He yelled suddenly and I nearly dropped the phone. " _Gooood luuuck!_ Youuu have **an hour!** Cheers!"

Before we could react, he ended the call. We didn't say anything for a while.

"This can't be", Mycroft whispered to himself. When I looked at him, he shook his head. "I'll explain later..."

"If this is the bomb we know about… then we need to deactivate it."

"My men are on the way."

"It took us two and a half hours to get here from London. We'd run out of time by then."

"Do you have any ideas?" He crossed his arms on his chest and stared at me and I knew **he** **knew** what I was thinking.

"I'll go down."

_"No."_

I knew it. I fucking knew it. With a sigh, I walked out of the bathroom, wiping my lips just in case with a handkerchief.

"So? We'll sit here and wait for it to explode?" I didn't look at him, I knew he followed me. "Do I have to remind you it won't wipe out _only_ Ireland?"

He looked at me and **_God_** I could've seen things that weren't there but he seemed he was in **_agony_**.

"Let's find the guests first. We need to evacuate."

He hurried out and I followed him. On the way we found our suitcases and I picked up a few clothes from it. As we continued walking, I realised I remembered this part of the house. I grabbed Mycroft's arm.

"Wait... his office. I don't think he sent his men to look after the mingling guests."

"Hostages?"

"Most likely." I frowned at him and he cocked a brow. "They’re too important to leave. Guarded. Make sure they can’t escape."

"The cameras there..." He quickly opened the door and I followed him, closing the door tight after myself. Mycroft sat at the desk and started up Andrew's laptop. I kicked off my shoes and started to get the things out of my dress, placing them on the sofa. "What are you doing?"

"I'm changing." I made my hair into a bun and pulled up my skintight leather pants. "Be a gentleman and don't stare."

At these words he put the laptop on his lap and turned his back to me with the chair. I smiled as I put on a shirt and my black jacket. With a sigh, I checked the guard's gun I confiscated and told Mycroft he could turn back. He did, with a certain look on his face.

"Bad news." I walked next to him and looked at the screen. He indeed did find the live records of the house and we were right, the politicians were hostages. Five guards stood around them in the room where we had the party. Mycroft showed me something else. A warning, that the place will lock down in thirty minutes. I straightened my back and sighed. "If the plans we saw are correct, they're exactly above the bomb. If there's a lock down, they won't be able to escape."

I swallowed and nervously fidgeted with my sleeve. I knew he won't like what I was about to suggest.

"You could get them out." He looked up at me. _Oh, this **stupid** face again. I **hate** it._ "I'll take care of the bad guys. You lead the people to your plane and leave."

"And you?"

He didn't miss I forgot to mention myself. I smiled faintly.

"Someone has to deactivate that bomb, or..."

"I don't want this", he said quietly and looked back at the screen. He stayed silent for a few seconds as he thought and probably the same thoughts were spinning in my head, too. "I never wanted any of this."

"I know, sir." I was bold and put my hand on his shoulder. I gave it a gentle squeeze. "But that's all we've got. We _have to._ "

He reached out and picked up two headsets from the desk. He gave one to me.

"I'll be your guide, then." I smiled and put the earpiece in my right then I checked the gun in my left hand. "Have you ever killed somebody?"

I blinked and looked back at him.

"You tell me."

He smiled and I smiled back. I walked to the door, barefoot. Better this way. I forgot to pack my boots, thought I wouldn't need them, but at least I'll be even more quiet like this. I opened the door when Mycroft spoke my name again. I looked back at him with a reassuring smile.

"Stay alive", he told me.

"Of course, sir. I want to be back at the office by Monday.“

And with that, I left the room.

With a sigh, I started up the headset and I silently ran down the corridor. I knew there was a high place just above the ball room and I'll use that to take care of the guards. As I reached the place I ducked and heard Mycroft already started to give me instructions where the guards stood below. I calculated and sneaked closer to see better. I remembered the kids... I can't just shoot these men in the head, that'd be gruesome. So I aimed for the heart.

**Bang no. 1.**

A guard fell, the people screamed, the other guards tried to find where did the bullet come from, but they really just turned around and around while they stood in one place.

**Bang no. 2.**

**Bang no. 3.**

They found out where I was so I retreated. Mycroft kept me updated in the meantime, his voice calm and commanding. I was glad he could snap out of his worrying state. He was _so_ useful and his voice was so **_~~damn sexy~~_** calming.

"He's coming up the stairs. Hide behind the statue." I did and aimed at the top of the stairs. "Wait. Five, four, three, two, one..."

**Bang no. 4.**

No. 5 suddenly yelled:

"You fucking...!" He still was with the people down there. A woman screamed and I recognised her voice. "Drop the gun or I'll kill the boy!"

"Shit", I muttered to myself.

"Sneak to the right side", Mycroft gave the command, "get around the area and shoot him from behind."

I moved as quickly as I could just as he said.

"Come on, show yourself, or should I put a bullet into his head?“

"No, please!" The woman screamed again.

I got behind the man just as Mycroft suggested. I aimed — knowing if I shot him in the head, James would be covered in the mess and I'd probably traumatise him for life. Saving his life was top priority at the moment, but what good would I do if I scarred him forever in the process? He already saw four men die.

So I got to my feet.

"Elisabeth", Mycroft barked, "just shoot him!"

I ignored him and slowly climbed up the rail, gently letting myself fall and landing behind him silently. The hostages stared at me and the guard turned slowly to me. I smirked as I pointed the gun at his face.

"Let him go. Now!" I yelled at him and his face twitched.

"I don't take orders from a bitch!"

He moved his gun from James's temple and I used this moment to grab that arm of his with my left hand. I forcefully twisted it around in a half circle and he was screaming like a banshee, letting James go who ran to his mother. The man fell to his knees and dropped the gun.

"That was **very** rude, **_apologise_** ", I growled at him.

"You fucking whore!"

"Wrong answer", I hissed and pushed his arm further up, I put my foot on his back and broke his shoulder. When he tried to wriggle away, I knocked him out. **THUMP** again. "Well. Sorry about that", I sighed to the guests. “I tried to talk some sense into him, but…”

I started to pick up the guard's gun when someone crashed against me and hugged me tightly. I groaned.

"You saved my baby boy!" Mrs Afton sobbed in my shoulder. I awkwardly looked up at the other people, who stared at me, shocked. I patted Mrs Afton on the back. “Thank you so much, Mrs Holmes!”

I pulled away, feeling rather awkward. I glanced a the gun still in my hand.

“I’m actually not Mrs Holmes.”

Silence followed my words as I heard rustling in the headset.

“I’ll be right there”, I heard Mycroft say before the line went silent again.

“Then who are you?” An older man asked and I flashed a smirk.

“My name is _Bond._ **_Liz Bond._** ”

A few in the crowd laughed. Mrs Afton got a hold of my free hand and placed a kiss on it with a beaming smile.

“I don’t care who are you, you still saved us all.”

“Yes, right…” I cleared my throat and took a step back as if I was checking if the bad guy still was unconscious. “We need to get you all out of here.”

“That’d be best”, the old man from before agreed with me.

Mycroft hurried down the stairs with Andrew’s laptop in his hand. I stood up straight and our eyes met.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, please follow me”, he said, his expression saying to me he was in battle mode again. He didn’t want people to panic. “Elisabeth, cover us.”

“Of course, sir.”

“What about our luggages?" A woman asked.

"I'm afraid we don't have time for that. We need to evacuate you all, immediately." Mycroft sounded irritated. He still had his coat on, Andrew's laptop in his right hand, and he opened the door for the people to it, motioning to his plane, which, unlike theirs, stayed on the island. No guards were outside since they probably didn't think someone would try and go outside. I walked up to Mycroft but he didn't look at me. "I'll get them out to safety and I'll come back. I'm going with you."

I swallowed and continued watching the guests leaving in a hurry.

"Alright", I said quietly.

As Mycroft walked out of the door so did I — but stopped a moment later. He walked a few meters before he realised I didn't follow him and I used that time to take a few steps back in the building.

 _Funny._ It looked like slow motion to me. Mycroft turned around and looked at me and I smiled, closing the door before me and turning the lock. He jumped right back and tried to open it but it was too late. He was furious and forcefully punched the glass with his left hand as he yelled my name. Not like it was useful in any way. It was bulletproof and I wasn’t about to let him in.

"Leave with them, sir. _You have to._ You're _too_ **_important._** I'll handle this."

Mycroft left his hand on the glass and stared in my eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _"Rob the bank... of England, and America..."_ ](https://youtu.be/9vIZklOohr4)

" **Open** this door **_right now_** ", he sounded way too angry now. I smiled weakly at him and took a step back. "Elisabeth, _don't you **dare!**_ You might be able to get to it but you have no idea how to disable a bomb!"

"Get someone who can, on the line, then. You're not coming down there with me."

" ** _You...!_** " He let out a vicious growl, at this moment he was too upset to even find the perfect word for my behaviour.

"I am **disposable**. You are **_not_**."

His face changed immediately. All emotions were erased from it. I saw how he worked, now; he **_detached_** himself on purpose, he **stopped** _feeling_. It was marvelous to see.

I wished I could be like him.

"How can you say such a thing? Why would you be disposable?"

"Compared to _you_ , **I am.** Compared to those _people on the plane_ , **I am**. Compared to the _thousands of souls_ this bomb could destroy, **I am**. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Leave with them. And **don't** think about me. I'll be _fine_."

He still looked at me, stoic, before he took a step back.

"I'll keep my eyes on you and aid you as much as I can."

"Now that's my boss", I smiled. "I still have a request, though." He didn't say or do anything, so I continued. "I have a cat at my neighbour's place... be kind and find her a loving family, if needed."

"Will do." He said quietly, then turned his back on me and started to walk to the plane.

"I liked to be your secretary, though", I smiled at his back as he walked away. "And I really loved the latte there."

He stopped and I saw he looked up at the sky. There was no noise, I couldn't see or hear how he reacted to my words other than stopping and gazing up. I used this opportunity to turn around and make my way down the hall to find the way underground. As I walked past by the guard I knocked out, I took his handcuff and put it on him, behind his back.

The lift led right down at the end of the hall. I fidgeted with the guns in my both hands as I waited nervously when suddenly Mycroft's calm voice in the earpiece made me jump slightly. Honestly, I thought I wouldn't hear his voice again...

"Good thing I left my pilot on the plane", he mused, "they're on their way."

 _They're on their way._ **What.** _No..._ oh, he **_didn't..._**

"Tell me you didn't stay on this blasted island", I leaned against the wall of the lift.

"It's not just you who's stubborn", came the rather dry reply.

"For **fuck** 's sake", I whispered to myself.

"I heard that. **_Manners_** , Elisabeth."

"If this goes wrong I'll..."

_Kick your goddamned British, posh ~~, sexy~~ butt._

"I had to stay. And you know why."

Of course I fucking knew. I knew the headset wouldn't work from far away and the laptop wouldn't be able to connect to this place. I was pretty fucking well aware of all of it. But I wanted him _safe_. Why must he be like this?! Why must he control everything?!

"There’s a damn good reason why I sent you off with them!" I argued.

"I know. But you forgot I was smarter than you in the process."

I angrily kicked the lift's door, despite I had no boots on.

"You're _not_ smart. If you knew it all, then you're **stupid** for staying."

"Well, you have to try and find better insults than that."

I grew even more angry.

_"You **stubborn** , control freak **oaf**!"_

Mycroft hummed. I heard I entertained him.

"You're almost there. Two guards just at the door, left and right side."

I wasn't done with him yet, but I crouched anyway. As soon as the door opened, I shot them both. Someone yelled not too far away and I saw the corridor turned left. Another man showed up. I shot him without thinking and I didn't miss. I noticed a camera at the end of the corridor; it turned the other way.

"Two, running. Rifles."

"Good, I'm tired of these handguns, they're painfully slow..."

I hid in the lift to catch my breath and I heard their footsteps coming closer. I put my hand out and shot blindly. One of them screamed. **THUMP**.

"One down but alive."

I had no idea why, but a song crept in my head and I just had to sing it.

_"Rob the bank... of England, and America..."_

I made myself visible and I was quicker, shooting the man in the face. The other still rolled around on the ground and tried to shoot at me, but he missed. I didn't.

_"Rob the bank of the entire euro zone..."_

"Will you really sing through it all?" Mycroft groaned.

"It got stuck in my head, maybe. I don't really like to work in complete silence. Used to hum a lot in the office, too." I walked through the corpses and dropped the guns, picking up a rifle. "Aww yeah, that's it."

I removed the clip from the other rifle and shoved it in my pocket.

"How many left? Andrew said he had 23 guards."

By the time he answered I knew.

"13", we said in unison and I laughed as I started to run down the corridor.

I proceeded cautiously and Mycroft stayed silent, so I continued singing.

_"Rob the bank… of Mexico and Canada..."_

"Why rob all the banks in the world? This song makes no sense."

Mycroft was still listening and his reaction cracked me up.

"Not everyone is as wealthy as you, sir."

"Would _you_ rob a bank?"

"I don't think so. But I just broke in a criminal's home. So it fits."

"You're not robbing him though."

"I could, if I wanted."

"Don’t waste time with that. I disabled the lock down, but still..."

"You disabled it? When?"

"While you had fun with the guards."

I whistled as appreciation.

"Can't you hack the bomb, too?"

"No. It can only be done manually."

_Well. Worth a try._

"Three in the next room. Rifles."

I stopped before the door and looked up at the camera which turned to me. Mycroft told me the exact directions where the guards sat at a table.

"Alright", I sighed as I kicked the door open. They started to get up and reached for their guns, but I already fired, precisely. They fell back on the table immediately. "It's almost too easy."

"Five runs down the next corridor, will arrive to the other door in five..."

"Ah well. I spoke too soon."

"Four..."

I quickly navigated through the room full of metal desks and chairs.

"Three, two..."

I tossed a table in front of me and hid behind it. It looked like it was made of steel, it might protect me. _Might._

"One..."

I peeked out when one of them broke down the door. I shot at them and they shot back immediately.

“Three left”, Mycroft mumbled in the headset.

I groaned out loud when a bullet hit my left shoulder. I felt the bullet only tore into my muscles above the bone, tearing through my body, so it wasn't a big deal. I ducked behind the table and I was lucky; it really did protect me.

"Spreading out. First, to your left, now!"

The pain blinded me momentarily but I still managed to take him down.

"Second, just in front of the table, crouching..."

I turned and put my gun out to shoot. A yell, then silence.

"Third, behind the d..." Mycroft hissed. "Grenade!"

" _Oh for **God's s...**_ "

I rolled out of the way when I heard the soft noise of it hitting the ground just behind the table. The other tables were in the way, I couldn't get away fast enough. The explosion threw the desks and chairs my way and I was smashed into the other ones on my other side. I felt a crack in my left side and I screamed out in agony.

There was complete silence for a few moments. My ears decided they didn’t want to work anymore. I opened my eyes and looked up; body parts everywhere, splattered blood on the floor, the walls and ceiling. I saw the last man grinning at me as he emerged from his hiding place behind the door.

 _You fucking asshole,_ I thought and I raised my rifle. I pulled the trigger just when he shot at me too. As I was lying on my right side I could barely breathe, but I pushed myself up with my feet. His bullet caught my right thigh.

My bullet caught his eye.

I realised I was screaming, so I did my best to stop. Heavily panting, I dropped my weapon and looked at my injured thigh. The bullet stayed inside but I could feel it didn’t reach the bone. While I tried to make a list of my injuries – a few minutes later I realised my head hit something, too –, I realised Mycroft kept talking to me, asking about my injuries. His voice was still calm, though. I wondered how could he do this. Well… probably if he panicked, it wouldn’t do either of us any good.

“Broken… rib in my left side… maybe more than one”, I pushed myself up. I _had to_ go. **_I must._** I mustered my remaining strength as I grabbed the rifle, changing the clip as I sat as I panted heavily, each breath was so painful I barely could keep my voice cool. “Bullet in right thigh. Didn’t reach the bone. I hit my head as well. Gunshot wound in left shoulder, went through the muscle. I’m feeling _glorious_ and **_alive_**.”

“You’re bleeding a lot from your leg”, he mentioned quietly, “did it hit an artery?”

I looked down at myself again and tried to focus my eyes.

“No”, I grumbled, tearing a piece off from my shirt to tie a knot just above the injury. I bit my lip hard and let out a muffled scream as I worked above the wound. Then I got to my feet and pressed my eyes together, hard. Tears smeared on my face. “I’m fine.”

“Elisabeth…” Mycroft said still quietly, hesitating.

“ ** _I’m fine!_** ” I yelled and continued walking for the door. Limping, would’ve been a better word. “Where are they?”

“Down the corridor, behind the next door. It’s closed from outside with a code, they can’t get out, even though they’re trying. They stand right in front of it. Should be easy.”

“Is it?” I sighed, grabbing the last fallen man’s rifle. I pulled them up in my both hands. “The bomb is not near them, right?”

“No.”

As if the guns weren’t heavy enough, my right leg didn’t cooperate as much as I would’ve liked. Nevertheless, I continued dragging myself there.

“Time?”

“Complete twenty-three minutes.”

“Good. Then I’ll catch my breath a little.”

I stopped before the door and let my arms down as I leaned my back against the cold wall. I felt nauseous and my sight was blurred.

“ _Concussion_ ”, I mumbled and Mycroft hissed.

“You have to move before it’s too late.”

“I know.”

I didn’t move.

“Elisabeth…”

I was exhausted and injured, I felt sharp pain at each breath and _there he was…_ just uttering my name. And it **motivated** me.

“Yes, sir. I know.”

I pushed myself away from the wall and staggered to the door. On the right, there was a pad with numbers. Mycroft told me the code and just before the door opened, I had time to raise my rifles again. I shot without thinking. Those inside were too surprised an enemy would try and get inside there. They stood no chance.

I breathed out, relieved, as I carefully bypassed them, dropping my weapons and placing my left hand on my right side, as if it could stop the pain. ~~It didn’t.~~ I reached another lift with another pad. Mycroft told me another code. It brought me underground for at least five minutes. I kept my back to the wall and kept singing, my voice hoarse and weak now.

 _“Rob the bank… then take me home…”_ I tilted my throbbing head back against the lift’s wall. _“But take me home…”_

Again, Mycroft couldn’t stay quiet.

“I will.”

I snorted and looked up at the camera in the corner in front of me.

“Visuals?”

“Good. Interestingly enough.”

“I demand a raise.”

He chuckled quietly and I loved it.

“You said you didn’t care about money.”

 ** _Why_** _on Earth would he **remember** these tiny bits I said?_ I wondered.

“You said I might change my mind.” I groaned at the wave of pain in my side. “You were right.”

It was his turn to stay silent for a few moments.

“I _always_ am.”

I swallowed when the door opened again. I relied on the wall and started to walk out slowly when a familiar voice started to speak above me immediately.

“ _Weeeeell._ You’re **NOT** Sherlock. I **invited** him and he **ignored** it. _Disappointing!!_ ” He said with a high-pitched voice and I walked to the bomb with my heart in my throat. The bomb was there and it was **_huge_**. All sorts of buttons and cables and… **oh shit.** _I lost this game._ The man’s voice sounded bored now. “Sadly, I’ll have to bury you there. Hope you kept a bullet for yourself. _Ahh!_ ” He gasped, “you **didn’t!** Too bad.”

So, he saw me just as Mycroft did.

“Who the Hell are you?!” I shouted, annoyed.

“You don’t know? _Yooou dooon’t knooow!_ Oh too bad. We could’ve get better acquainted. But, given the current circumstances…”

The lift closed it’s doors and after a few minutes, another explosion shook the ground beneath my bare feet.

“No lift left. _Lift left._ Riff-raff, **rawr.** _Tick_ - **tock** , _tick_ - **tock** , _hurry u–_ ”

He suddenly went silent.

“Teaches him to get on this line”, Mycroft grumbled in my ear and I knew he interrupted that mysterious man. I was glad he did. “Get to the bomb.”

I staggered there, relying on the side of it and stared at the complex machinery. Mycroft was right, this was beyond me. _Was I wrong?_ Maybe I should’ve brought him with me?

“Alright. Alright, I can do this, I can…” I muttered to myself.

“Here’s Gary on the line. He sees and hears you and will give you the instructions what to do with it.”

A pleasant voice talked to me through my earpiece. He had American accent.

“We don’t have much time so I’ll get right to what you must do…”

He spoke so fast my head started spinning. I closed my eyes hard and fought with my nausea. He told me briefly how this bomb worked and came to the conclusion I needed to get the top panel off of it to get to the cables.

I looked around in the room, but there were no tools. I reached for my to get out my special stainless steel hairpin and started to use it as a screwdriver. Slowly, but certainly, I removed all the four of the screws and gently took the panel off. I had a lot of time but my hands shook so violently I needed to rest for a few minutes often.

“I’m not feeling… _right_ ”, I whispered and my stomach clenched.

“We’re almost done, Elisabeth. Hang on.”

I pushed my forehead against the cold metal next to where the panel was and pressed my eyes tight together, trying to believe Mycroft’s words.

“I see our cable”, Gary spoke suddenly, “there’s a dark blue one there. Cut that and we’re safe.”

I swallowed hard, looking at the panel again, the colorful cables dancing before my eyes. I pressed my left hand on my mouth so I wouldn’t throw up and fidgeted with the cables until Gary said it was the one.

I stopped thinking. He said this was it, so I yanked it. I didn’t even care about anything this point, I wanted to give in to the temptation and faint.

“She did it!” Gary cheered and I barely heard.

It didn’t hurt when I hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this song:  
>  _Then take me home,  
>  But take me home...  
> Make love,  
> Make love,  
> Make love,  
> Make love..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I gave in to this temptation it could burn me, and _if_ and _when_ a certain _someone_ found out, another fire would burn me. Totally not a win-win situation for me.

If this was death, why was there so much **_pain?_**

I inhaled sharply as I clawed myself back to consciousness and I realised there was something on my face. I barely could open my eyes and when I did, the light blinded me anyway.

I had no idea how much time passed before I realised the movement around me. There were people, shouting incomprehensible words as they rushed up and down, in and out of my view. Someone leaned above me, a middle aged woman with black glasses, brown hair and a smile.

“She did it!”

 _What? I did what?_ With a groan, I rolled my eyes and did my best to focus. Then I nearly fainted again when I realised I was on an operating table. I didn’t dare to look down on myself, so I raised my right arm, weakly, and grabbed the woman’s hand.

“My… My…” I mumbled through the oxygen mask and she beamed a smile at me.

“Mycroft? He’s fine.”

 _Good,_ I thought, _he **better** be._ All of this didn’t worth all the trouble if he didn’t make it out. I didn’t search for a reason why he wouldn’t be able to make it out of there, I simply wanted to know if he was alright. And when word was given that yes indeed, that _control freak oaf_ survived, I eased back into the _calm_ and rather **painless** unconsciousness.

Then, again, the pain woke me up.

It started to annoy me.

With a wheeze I tried to kick something off of me which was on my body. When I realised I completely, totally entangled myself in a blanket, I finally opened my eyes. The dark hospital room was abandoned, save for the various machines next to my bed. I touched something and I realised it was a button to call for the nurse.

So I pressed it as hard and as long as I could.

I heard someone running down the corridor way before they reached my room. As the door opened and that person stepped in, they immediately turned up the light and I hissed when it blinded me.

“You’re awake!” She exclaimed and I blinked a few times to finally adjust my eyes to the light.

“Obviously”, I grumbled, my voice hoarse. Both that and my eyes felt like I haven’t used them for a long time. “How long…?”

“You’ve been unconscious for nine days by now.” Holy shit. “Even though we did everything we could, you’ve lost a lot of blood and the concussion didn’t make it easy either.” _Holy shit._ “But at least, it seems you didn’t suffer brain damage.” **Holy shit!** “We were afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

**_Holy. Fucking. Shit._ **

“ _Bad news,_ I did.” I looked down at myself and noticed the needle in my arm. The nurse stepped next to my bed and she started to help me with the blanket. I stared at the gauze covered wound on my right thigh, currently uncovered by one of my shorter nightgowns. They obviously took this from the luggage I left at Andrew’s place because I had only this one. I pursed my lips when I remembered I didn’t even get to use it there. _Ah well._ I looked up at the chubby faced, kind looking nurse. “What’s your name?”

“Chloe”, she smiled at me. “And yours?”

I laughed and it hurt like Hell so I stopped. I knew _she knew_ **_I knew_** who I was but she wanted to make sure I was still myself.

“Elisabeth. I’m the secretary of Mycroft Holmes. I have a cat at home and I love coffee…”

I didn’t say anything else since I thought what happened there was top secret anyway, but Chloe was fine with the details I gave her.

“Alright, your belongings are on the nightstand next to you. Use these buttons if you want your bed to tilt up or down. Try not to move much.”

“Even breathing hurts, I doubt I’ll move”, I rolled my eyes as I glanced at the nightstand.

As Chloe walked out of my room, I noticed both of my phones were there. This screamed Mycroft wanted me to let him know immediately if I wake up… because my personal one only lacked a simple thing the business phone had: **_his Highness's number._**

_The sneaky bastard._

I picked up the phone and powered it up, typing in my code and opening the messages. I smirked to myself. It was 3am. He left it here so I could contact him, and I’ll do just that. _Then…_ I realised the nurses here probably updated him of my state and if they thought I wouldn’t make it… but _did he even **care?**_ Would the Iceman actually _care_ if I died or worse, remained comatose for the rest of my life?

I shook my head. _Don’t think such things._ **Who** cares if he **_does_** care? **Who** cares if he **_doesn’t_** care? _I don’t._ I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care about him but I _failed,_ **_miserably._** I wanted to hear his voice _so badly_ and I didn’t **bother** to explain it to **_myself_** **why.**

So I typed in my message.

**Gotcha.**

Not even a minute went by and my phone was ringing. He called. In the middle of the night. Right after I sent him a text.

_Mycroft Holmes fucking rang me immediately after I sent him a one word text._

“How **dare you** wake me up”, he grumbled and I laughed again, moaning from the intense pain in my side.

“Don’t make me laugh, sir. It hurts.”

“We’ll need to talk about what happened there.”

“Understood.”

“And I need my secretary back, immediately.”

“As soon as I can leave the bed…”

“You have your laptop with you.”

I couldn’t believe this. As happy as I was hearing his ~~annoyingly sexy~~ velvet voice, this last sentence made me think for a moment. I just came back from the dead and he already wanted me to go back to work, in this state?! Did he really have a heart?? I had my doubts at this point. I sounded annoyed, now.

“With all respect, _sir,_ I need to rest until I heal **completely**.”

“I’m afraid there’s no time for that. I managed to get a replacement, but this anonymous minion is infuriating.”

**_Anonymous minion…_ **

“ ** _Sir,_** _please,_ **don’t** make me laugh!” I teared up from the giggle I could hold back half only.

"I wasn't joking." But he sounded like he was smiling, as if it was his plan all along, to make me laugh. "You **must** resume your job, **_urgently._** "

Okay, maybe this is his way of saying _'I'm glad you're not dead and I missed you.'_ A rather **twisted** and _selfish_ way to say...

"I'll make sure I'm healing at 100% rate, then", I replied, easing back against the pillows.

"That is exactly what am I expecting from you, Elisabeth. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

He ended the call and I looked at my business phone. I smiled.

 

The next day fantastically delicious food arrived for me. I asked Chloe to stay with me, because I wanted to know a few things. Actually, as it turned out, this was St. Bartholomew's hospital, and I was the most important patient.

_Guess why._

As I ate my omelet and sipped my tea, I wondered for a moment if any of what happened leaked out to the media. I had my doubts. But I also had a feeling that I wouldn't stay in the shadows for long, not after what I've done. Of course, only Mycroft knew how I butchered a lot of men — I never would've succeeded if not for my boss — and disabled a bomb — actually Gary did that — which was powerful enough to destroy Ireland and half of Great Britain, I still saved the guests and all of them were wealthy, important people in the ball room. I thought of Mrs Afton and how grateful she was I saved her son.

Nope. Definitely wouldn't be able to lay low.

Chloe was nice enough to bring me a few newspaper and really, I didn't miss much while I was unconscious. The pound dropped again, Her Majesty had a new hat, it was cold and rainy, everything was **fine.**

_How boring._

I started up my laptop and I saw immediately I've been missed on so many social platforms. It wasn't like I was a social butterfly, I loved to sit at home and do nothing sometimes, but I did go online and talked to people. I had many messages and a friend request. Wondering who could that be, I clicked then gasped — then moaned from the pain.

_Holy shit, **Sherlock Holmes added me as a friend.**_

I wondered for a brief moment what would Mycroft say to this, so I checked Sherlock's friends online and found out he had only a handful of people there and my boss wasn't amoung them. So I accepted his request, because why not. What Mycroft didn't know, wouldn't hurt **me** , right?

I quickly made a post that I was alive, even though I had a car accident — I couldn't say I got into a massive gunfight, right? —, responded to the messages when Sherlock suddenly popped up as a new one.

**Came back from the dead. Congratulations! St. Bartholomew's, isn't it?**

I cleared my throat and looked out of the window. Mycroft **will** _kill me_ if I talk to his brother.

But I just couldn't fucking help it, the man was a stellar kisser and I loved how he could get under my skin in a second. So I wrote him back a single word.

**284.**

A second later the footsteps went quiet just before my door.

“Good, I was about to ask”, Sherlock glanced at me, walking in my room in his swirling dark coat and closing the door behind himself.

 ** _Oh God._** Why did I do this to myself. If one ~~handsome~~ Holmes wasn’t enough in my life, I gave exact clues to Sherlock where to find me and he actually. _Went through._ **All the trouble.** To come and **_visit me._**

“I heard about the _little problems_ you ran into at the party. Quite a shame.” As he turned to face me again, I wondered if it was the morphine dose I raised not too earlier or something else entirely but **_Jesus_** , he was even more sexy than the last time I saw him. I cleared my throat and leaned back on the pillows, knowing exactly he saw everything like it was written all over me. He grabbed his coat’s collar and pulled it up more. “I hope you’re feeling better now.”

“I’m alive”, I shrugged with my uninjured shoulder.

“Certainly.” He smiled slightly then stepped next to my bed. He was dangerously close. As he looked down at me and I glanced up at him, I could feel the air change in my room. I felt incredibly hot and was about to kick off the blanket of me but I realised I had no time to shave my legs yet so I didn’t. If it wasn’t bad enough already, I remembered how his lips felt against mine. Then the look he gave me, as if he tried to read everything out of me, only made it worse. **Aw fuck.** _Definitely the morphine. **Must be.**_ I swallowed and reached for the panel to switch off my drug. Sherlock watched me doing it. “Are you sure about that?”

“I’m thinking…” _Of your **lips**. Your **scent**. Gosh how I’d run my fingers in your **hair** , it must feel **amazing** … _“Stupid thoughts.”

The left corner of his lips twitched up, he held back a smile and if it was possible, his gaze became even more intense.

“It’s alright to be stupid.”

“No, it’s not”, I tore my eyes from his and forced myself to finally feel something other than my rather _selfish_ and **_greedy_** needs. I inhaled sharply just to cause myself pain and I frowned slightly because _it **didn’t** work._ “It’s always _wrong_ and **_dangerous_** to be stupid around a Holmes.”

He reached for my chin and gently turned my head back. I had to look at him again. Sherlock leaned down and I could feel his hot breath against my cheek. **_Holy shit._** _No, bad Sherlock, you **don’t** , you **can’t** …_

“But you _like_ danger”, he pointed it out matter of factly with a predatory smile.

It was wrong. Wrong, _wrong,_ **_wrong._** Especially with all the feelings I had for Mycroft. _Confused feelings._ **Stupid** **feelings.** Feelings, that’d never reciprocate. He wasn’t capable to like, and especially, love anyone. He’d never even notice me like that. **Ever.** I knew. _I felt._

But Sherlock was here. He was **real**. The way he **_made me feel_** was real. It was very different from how Mycroft made me feel. In a sense, they were alike, but in Sherlock I found even more fire, burning passion… but it still felt wrong. If I gave in to this temptation it could burn me, and _if_ and _when_ a certain _someone_ found out, another fire would burn me. Totally not a win-win situation for me. I turned my head away.

“No…” I whispered. “I can’t.”

“Why?” He whispered back in my ear now, voice deep and gentle. “Because of my brother?” I pressed my eyes together. _How did he know?_ Ah, it’d be silly of me to ask. “I don't mean to cause you pain, but we both know you like him. His codename is _Antarctica_ for a reason, Elisabeth. You can't and won't get closer to him than this. **Ever.** " A lump formed in my throat and I shook my head. _Mycroft knew?_ **_Oh my God,_** _he knew all along?_ I wanted to ask _since when_ , but then I thought it didn't matter at all. It wasn’t important. "It’s not like he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like he ever _could_ be. You keep hoping but it is in vain. He’s your boss and he’ll stay your boss.”

“It still feels wrong. I gave my word…”

I pretended it didn’t hurt me that Sherlock pointed out he saw I had no chance with Mycroft, but at least I got proof. I was right. The elder Holmes wouldn’t feel the same way towards me as I felt about him… and I took Sherlock’s words to the heart. He knew his brother better than I’d ever know him.

“ _Blame me_ , then.” He gently turned my head back again. “It’s me who keeps pushing your buttons anyway.”

“ _You bastard_ ”, I breathed and he took the opportunity to kiss me softly, gently.

I didn’t care about the infusion in my left hand as I reached for his coat to pull him down more as he deepened the kiss, hugging me with one arm, keeping me close against his chest, paying attention to my injuries, careful not to cause me pain. In a mere seconds it became rather heated and I moaned as I turned even more to him when I ran my fingers in his messy hair. I was right. _It felt amazing._

“Wait”, he grumbled on my lower lip as he broke away from me a little, “you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine”, I whined and pulled him down once more and he kissed me again.

I wasn’t counting the seconds as I got lost in the feeling. He was perfect in every sense. The more I tasted his lips the more I wanted from him to give to me and gosh I was ready to catch fire at any second. I wondered if he did this to get some information out of me, but at this point, I wouldn’t even care. He could use me for anything he liked as long as he kept kissing me like this.

After a while, I had to let him go. He sat on the edge of my bed and pushed me back gently on the pillows, adjusting the blanket on me as I kept watching his face. I was sure I was as red as a tomato by now, but to see his cheeks being rosy entertained me to no end.

“When you can leave this place, we could have some chips”, he mumbled as he looked at my hand on my blanket. He looked up in my eyes again and I had my _urgent needs_ to have him conquer my lips again resurface at that. “Would you like that?”

“Yes”, I smiled, blinking slowly, wondering if this all really did happen or it was just my mind playing tricks with me. “I’d very much like to spend more time with you.”

He tilted his head and he looked slightly confused as he processed this information. Then he leaned closer to me and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“Rest”, he whispered.

I watched him get up with a smirk on his face. He totally looked like he got just what he came for. I expected questions about the incident at Hill’s residence, but there was none. He walked to the door, opened it, looked back at me – geez, that half smirk made my heart beat much faster –, then he walked away, leaving the door open.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“He, Who Must Control All…”_

A few hours later I totally made myself believe I just imagined Sherlock. Nope, it never happened. Couldn't happen. I lied in my bed for a long time, touching my lips over and over again.

Did I really kiss him? Was he really here? I was so confused. After that of course the drug left my system and I was constantly in great pain, but could it cause hallucination?

Maybe they were wrong and I did suffer some brain damage. Maybe I am nuts, now.

But it felt so real! And my phone had the messages, too. It had to be real. It must've happened.

**_It's me who keeps pushing your buttons anyway._ **

I pulled my blanket over my head and I whined out loud.

I heard someone knock on my door and I whimpered to myself when I peeked out from under it. It was Mycroft.

**_Fuckity frick frack._ **

I pulled the blanket on my head again but it was hard to unsee him. I couldn't pretend I didn't see his eyes fixed on mine as I childishly glanced at him with my hair all messed up. And I couldn't pretend I wasn't utterly ashamed of myself for everything, not just because I hid like this.

 ** _For fuck's sake,_** _he **knew**!! He knew I fancied him and he... _ wait a moment, maybe that's why he was so mean with me? Because he knew and it annoyed him? I felt helpless tears gathering in my eyes and I honestly wished I could disappear forever.

"Did I interrupt something?"

Shit _shit **shit**_. _His voice_ ~~of a God~~. I had trouble breathing.

"No", I whimpered in a high-pitched voice and I could hear he came closer to my bed after he closed the door.

I peeked out at him again. **Antarctica.** _Weird._ Did he choose that? **Probably.** Was this how he saw himself? **Probably.** Like, if someone asked me to think of a codename for myself, I was pretty sure I'd go with something stupid. Bullseye, Kitten, Cupcake... something like that.

Meanwhile, Mycroft chose **_Antarctica_**. I pictured it before myself. _So dramatic._ Miles and miles of whiteness. Cold, barren, empty, deadly. Nothing on the surface and nothing beneath just death.

I felt so stupid. I was so stupid. And Sherlock was right. I had no chance with this man. So I lowered my blanket and didn't care how I looked like. I didn't want to impress him anymore.

It wouldn't have an effect on him anyway.

He was dressed perfectly again. He didn't take off his black coat, but I could see his three piece suit under it. Blue, pinstriped with matching coloured waistcoat and a silver silk tie. And of course, his umbrella, the constant companion.

_That umbrella had more chance with Mycroft than me._

"So", he frowned at me slightly. "I was informed that you're healing quickly, just as you promised."

"Yes, sir. I have to go back to work, after all."

"Agreed", he narrowed his eyes just a little bit. I could see his pupils' dilated. _Why?_ "And I was also informed Sherlock visited you earlier today."

I blushed at lightspeed and I was sure my heart threatened to jump out through my mouth. My reaction gave him proof; I didn't really need to tell him anything at this point, but I owed him this much.

"Yes, I think he did."

"You _think_ he did."

As he echoed my words his eyes narrowed further and the air in the room changed again, for the second time today. But this was a very different type of change: it awakened my survival instinct in a mere second.

I started to piss him off already.

"I was... my dose of morphine was a little high at the time."

God please, I really wished now I just imagined Sherlock here. This answer didn't make Mycroft less pissed off with me, on the contrary. He reached in his laptop case and pulled out photos which he tossed on my blanket covered legs. It really was Sherlock, just walking before this hospital today.

"So why'd you invite him here?" Mycroft's voice was dripping honey, deadly honey, which started to smother me immediately.

"I... I didn't invite him", I protested and I knew **_he knew_** I partly lied.

"I know when you lie to me." His voice seemed to darken with every word and if looks could kill... "You can't hide anything from me. Which is one of the reasons I chose you to be my secretary." He leaned back in the chair and stared at me. "So, I'll ask again. Why did you invite Sherlock?"

I swallowed. There weren't any escape routes now. I felt more helpless than when I was locked up with that bomb. I stared at Sherlock on the picture, just to avoid the look Mycroft would give me when I told him the truth.

"He was already in the building when I wrote to him online which room was mine. He knew I woke up and also knew which hospital I was at."

"And what did I tell you, what would happen if you so much as texted him?"

I swallowed and looked up at him finally.

"He can be very stubborn. I have no idea where he gets that from. Plus, it wasn't a text."

I was sure if he was arm length from me he would've slapped me. Instead, his face distorted into a mix of anger and fury.

"I told you to keep your distance from him."

I fought back my fear. He had no authority to talk to me like that! He didn't have the right to prohibit me from meeting Sherlock! But if only I could look into his head to find the reason WHY he did all of this! There has to be a reason he doesn't want me near him, but what is it?

"I can't", I shrugged and I looked at the pictures again. "And I won't."

"I'm not allowing you to get closer to him."

I pressed my lips together. I started to find my voice.

"Why, who are you, my father?" I snapped and the look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine but I tried not to care. "He likes me and I like him too, and I'll spend more time with him and nothing will change that."

It happened so suddenly. In one second Mycroft looked like he'd unleash his personal Hell on me, then in the next second — there was nothing. His face became smooth, his eyes dead.

He stopped feeling, just as he did after I locked him out of Andrew's house.

Mycroft stood and turned to leave, without uttering a single word. He walked out and left the door open.

I couldn't understand what was going on.

 

I could leave the hospital at my own risk. I moved very carefully and took a lot of painkillers — my leg didn't hurt as much as my side, since there were two broken ribs. Travelling in the city was very painful. But I wanted to get to home as soon as possible.

Ninnie was happy when she saw me, I couldn't even get her off of my lap for half an hour even though I reeked from the hospital's scent. I decided I'd order food and while it arrived I had a shower. Slow, painful shower. But at least here I could moan about it freely. Nobody heard.

When I turned off the water and put new gauze on my leg, I noticed someone was knocking furiously.

"A moment!" I yelled out.

"Better be just a moment!" Came the reply and my heart jumped up in my throat.

_Oh, Sherlock..._

I put on black trousers and a black sleeveless shirt, deciding I'd put gauze on my shoulder after I let Sherlock in. He seemed surprised when I opened the door and he wandered in my kitchen. He also seemed very big in there. Ninnie disappeared. She didn’t like strangers.

"You've been crying", he commented and I glanced up at him.

"How do you know?" I asked as I tried to put the gauze on my shoulder.

Sherlock stepped next to me and took the things from me. He applied the antiseptic and started to patch me up. He had really good, precise hands, knew exactly how to touch me without hurting me.

"Well, your eyes. Since you're rather immune to physical pain, I'd assume you talked to someone who leaves a lasting impression in you. Probably male, you wouldn't care if a woman insulted you, but this man... this man is a powerful one, one you're a little bit afraid of, which quite disagrees with your past, might I add." He frowned slightly as I hung my head and sighed. I didn't bother to tell him anything, he knew already. "And since I'm well aware you don't really have anyone close to you, I'd say, Mycroft visited you."

"You're very talented, Sherlock", I smiled up at him and I meant it. That seemed to surprise him. "You really are."

"What happened exactly?"

"He knows you visited me. He told me he won't let me to get closer to you. He seemed very angry, then I told him I’ll spend more time with you and nothing can change that. Then, his anger suddenly turned to nothing and he left without a word."

Sherlock's eyebrows twitched towards to the middle for a second.

“Will you go back to work?”

“Tomorrow, yes”, I nodded. “He sent a text I must be at my place by 7.45.”

“You can’t go to work with injuries like that”, he pointed it out with a raised brow and I waved tiredly.

“I’m not tickling the sleeping dragon. If I don’t exactly have to.” I had no idea what awaited me the next morning, but I was sure I wouldn’t have an easy day. There was a knock on my door. I pushed myself up with a hiss. “My food…”

“Sit down, I’ll get it”, Sherlock offered, already walking to the door. I sat back with a sigh, thinking that he was right, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on my work with all this pain. He paid for my food and brought it back to the table in front of me. He picked up cutlery and a plate. “Chinese?”

“Best in town”, I smiled faintly, offering him my money but he shook his head, “bring a plate for yourself, too.”

He tilted his head slightly, considering my offer, then he did what I told him to, then sat down in front of me. I opened the boxes and we shared the food.

“So, how’s life?” I asked, realising we always talked about me.

“Nothing special”, he frowned, “John wouldn’t talk to me at the moment, so I’m rather bored.”

“Why wouldn’t he talk to you?” I cocked a brow and he sighed.

“We had a minor disagreement when we played Cluedo.”

Without remembering the state of my ribs, I laughed quietly. Then I groaned and touched my broken side. He smiled at me and ate a little. Silently, I was happy with myself that I could make him eat.

“Well… that game tears families apart, I’m sure.”

“Do you play it?” He cocked a brow.

“No”, I snorted before I stuffed my face with pasta.

“Too bad. What do you in your free time, then?”

“I sleep.” I rolled my eyes, “I don’t really have the strength to do anything else.”

Sherlock grinned. My cheeks warmed up.

“I’m about to change that.” He quickly finished his food then stood up and put his empty plate in the sink. I quickly stuffed my mouth again with the last bit of my food. “Come with me to Baker Street.”

I nearly choked. With tears in my eyes I coughed once, then quickly swallowed rather than spitting it out on my table. Then I buried my face in a napkin.

“What?” I looked up at him when I managed to stay alive. “Why?”

“I’ll show you a few cases. You can pick whatever you like.”

 _Oh my God._ This was an invitation to his own personal waltz and it was just so tempting. I looked at my clock above my sink. 4pm.

“I need to be home by eight. If I don’t sleep enough, I won’t be able to get up and…” I didn’t finish, he already knew what was I talking about.

“Don’t worry.” I got up and put my plate in the sink, too. I poured myself a glass of water and started to drink it. “You could sleep with me.”

I choked again. He did it on a purpose, I could’ve sworn! Then my mind suddenly went blank.

**YOU COULD SLEEP WITH ME.**

“But… my clothes…”

“Bring them.”

I was sure my face was on fire. What should I reply to this? **_Frick._** Both of the Holmes boys tried to kill me in various ways. I didn’t know which one of them was worse.

“Fine.”

He smirked and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to kiss my forehead. I smiled and closed my eyes. When he let me go, I walked in my bedroom and he followed me. I didn’t care about the suitcase which was thrown on my bed and I tried not to think when did I pack the stuff in it. I managed to get a new outfit out from my wardrobe in my Union Jack bag, along with a few other things needed for sleeping at someone else’s place. Basically, I just packed from one bag to the other.

I got on socks, boots, hoodie and my coat while Sherlock observed everything in my apartment. I walked to my window to check if I really closed it when I got home or not and suddenly froze.

“What is it?” Sherlock mumbled immediately behind me as I kept staring at the other house on the other side of the street.

“There’s a CCTV camera”, I replied. “It wasn’t there before I…” I frowned. Why on Earth would someone place a CCTV camera on the top of a house, facing exactly at my flat? I had a very, very sinister feeling rising up in my stomach. Sherlock stepped next to me and glanced up at it. “I think I’ve been discovered.”

“Can’t really stay in the shadows once you save so many lives.”

I sighed and let go of the curtains to fall back to their place as I turned to face Sherlock.

“Does your brother think I’ll flip out for some reason, after all that happened?” I asked with a frown. “Does he think I’d go nuts and start shooting people?”

“No one can be sure what he thinks.” He shrugged and I liked he didn’t ask why I thought it was Mycroft doing this… but disliked he didn’t prove me wrong. It meant it really was Mycroft. “He does the same to me as well. Always keeps an eye on me.”

“The Big Brother”, I rolled my eyes and he chuckled quietly.

“You wouldn’t even believe.”

This didn’t make me feel lighter at all.

“Do you think he’ll give us a hard time?”

“Definitely”, he grumbled before he turned around and picked up my bag. I followed him outside to the main door. I poured more food for Ninnie; I wouldn’t be around tonight to feed her. We left my flat and I locked the door. “He can be quite the nuisance sometimes.”

“You tell me”, I sighed as we walked down the stairs. _“He, Who Must Control All…”_

Sherlock snickered.

“Yes. And he gets literally offended when people won’t do things he wants them to.”

He caught a cab and we arrived at Baker Street in less than twenty minutes. I pressed my hand gently on my side during the travel. When we got out, Sherlock mentioned I was pale, but I waved my hand as if it was nothing.

Then I remembered I left my painkillers at home.

I didn’t mention it as Sherlock introduced me to his landlady, Mrs Hudson. I thought she was very lovely; we chat about the weather as she offered me tea and biscuits. I was sure she wanted to chat a little more, but Sherlock was rather excited about choosing a case, so I promised her we’d have some time to talk later.

Then the _fun_ begun.

In less than thirty minutes he managed to turn down each and every case I read out loud to him. If this wasn’t bad enough, my injuries ached more and more. I got slightly irritated, but at least I wasn’t hungry. Just so damn tired and afraid of tomorrow’s work.

“Then you pick one”, I gave up, leaning back in his chair as he put his hand behind my back and clicked something on his laptop. Another case showed up. “The case of the crimson ankh”, I raised my brow. “A serial killer who leaves an ankh drawn in blood on his victims?”

“Isn’t it original?” Sherlock smirked and I had to giggle, even if it hurt. He saw things so differently than… ordinary people. “Look at the pictures. Can you spot something unusual?”

He opened up a few pictures of dead people’s faces. Three, to be exact. There was something weird about them, yes – if we never mention these were **DEAD PEOPLE** –, they all had ankhs drawn on their foreheads but one of them seemed different.

“Okay, amaze me”, my eyebrows shot up.

“He makes them draw the ankh themselves.”

“How?”

“I’m unsure. But it’s clear to see, look again”, he pointed at the pictures. “Observe!”

I blinked tiredly at the pictures and I finally noticed it.

“Two of them has their right index finger bloody, the third one on the other hand…”

“That’s right, John”, he pushed himself away and I remained still. He just called me _John._ He thought he was talking to John Watson. I wasn't entirely sure how to react to this at the moment. “One of them was left handed! The police thought they all tried to stop the bleeding but it’s not right since only their index finger is bloody. Plus the left handed one – it’s clear she was an alcoholic judging by her clothes and whatnot, it’s not important, the lines, _the lines_ aren’t that clear and the blood is smeared in a different way…”

“So he stabs them to death… but how does he make them draw it on themselves?”

“Maybe drugs them? Persuades them they’d get eternal life?”

“Since the word ankh means ‘life’?”

“Exactly.”

“But why does it show up here? I mean there’s a group of believers in ancient Egyptian stuff? A cult?”

Sherlock stopped walking up and down and turned to face me, an extreme frown on his face. He put his hands together before his mouth and looked like he was thinking.

“Sacrifices?” He mused.

“Blood sacrifices to the gods.”

His frown deepened. He walked past by me and sat in his black leathered chair and stayed silent for the next few minutes. When he remained unresponsive after a while, I got up and walked down to Mrs Hudson to ask for a painkiller. I hoped she had some, because at this point I could barely move. Just when I walked past by the main door, someone knocked and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Well let me give you a bit of advice. _You_ **do** what **_I_** **tell** you. Or you can find yourself in a very, _very_ delicate situation."

Mrs Hudson rushed out and smiled at me as she opened the door and I nearly collapsed right there. It was Mycroft. The way he looked at me turned my bones to ice. Fuck _fuck **fuck**_. I hoped I had time until tomorrow to see his face, but no. The panic probably was written on my face as I quickly turned and made a beeline to Mrs Hudson’s door, turning my back to him.

“What do you need, Mr Holmes?” Mrs Hudson asked him and he cleared his throat but I didn’t dare to look back, I disappeared behind her door.

“I came to see Sherlock.”

His mere voice turned my legs to jelly.

“He’s upstairs as usual.”

“I know.”

I hid behind the door and waited for him to go upstairs. Only then I could resume to breathe normally. I was so upset I forgot why I came down here. **Shit.** He’ll see my bag on Sherlock’s couch. **Fuck.** He’ll know I'll spend the night here. **Fuck.** He’ll know I’ll go to work tomorrow from here.

**_Fucking Hell._ **

I buried my face in my hands briefly before I looked up at Mrs Hudson, who walked after me.

“I’m sorry I… he’s…”

“Don’t worry dear. It’s alright not to like him”, she flashed a smile at me.

“Well… he’s my boss so I don’t really get to choose”, I smiled faintly and her eyes widened.

“Your boss? Oh, you poor dear…” She walked past by me and I cleared my throat.

“Actually I was thinking… can I ask if… do you have any painkillers, Mrs Hudson?”

“Of course, dear”, she smiled at me again, “ _that_ time of the month?”

I blinked, between confusion and embarrassment.

“No, I had a car accident and broke two ribs.”

She gasped and put her hand on her lips.

“Shouldn’t you be still in hospital, then? If it hurts so much?”

“I don’t have time to stay in the hospital”, I smiled faintly. She gave me a pill and I thanked her. “You saved my sanity.”

“Don’t mention it. I know pain too, I have a hip...”

I decided I didn’t need any more reason to stay down here, hiding. So I dragged myself upstairs. It seemed with each step I took my heart beat faster and faster, threatening to break more ribs of mine. It wasn’t helpful I felt his expensive cologne on my way. It made me dizzy. _Am I fucking cursed?!_

I reached the top of the stairs and noticed Mycroft sat in John’s chair. Mycroft shot me an unfriendly, cold look above his shoulder as he continued playing with his umbrella, before he glanced back at Sherlock, who still was too deep in thought to notice us. I swallowed and I was totally grateful there was another door which led to the kitchen to search for a glass to take the painkiller. I heard movement from the room but decided I didn’t care. I concentrated on the fact I couldn’t find anything in Sherlock’s kitchen, which basically was a lab.

“So I came to the conclusion that you find enjoyment in disobedience.”

Mycroft stood right behind me and the way he talked did several things to my body and mind at the same time. _Gosh_ I fucking wished I could disappear. I felt hot. My cheeks and ears went red. Then I went pale and my hands shook as I finally found a damned mug and poured myself some water. His velvet voice I so enjoyed hearing was dripping honey again and it was just too much. _Mycroft **hated** every inch of me._ I felt it. I sensed it in his tone. Every fiber in my body told me to _turn around, you’ll have to defend yourself, don’t show your back to him in case he physically attacks,_ but in my head I thought I’d defend myself if I never looked at him. He wouldn’t read everything out of me again.

He wouldn’t know how much I _feared_ and **_longed_** his presence.

This duality started to kill me slowly. **_For fuck’s sake,_** I was **_kissing_** his brother. I shared food with his brother. I planned to stay with his brother tonight.

_Forget Mycroft! Get him out of your head, don’t care about him!_

“I don’t know what I expected”, he continued, taking a deep breath before he spoke, “you really do seem to enjoy making me angry.” I put the pill in my mouth with trembling fingers and drank a little water, still showing my back to him. “I hope you’ll enjoy it as well when I unleash that anger on you.”

I grabbed the edge of the sink, hard. That way I could hide how my fingers shook. I put the mug in the sink and turned to face him, crossing my arms under my breasts. His eyes nearly pierced me.

“I don’t enjoy making you angry”, I said then with a lump in my throat.

I remembered what Sherlock said, again. That _they both knew…_ I couldn’t stomach this. If he knew, why was he doing this? Why was he so keen to destroy whatever positive feelings I had for him? And if he succeeded with that, because damn he was about to succeed, then why didn’t he let me be with Sherlock if he never wanted to get close to me? Why couldn’t I _move on_? Frankly, what he did, didn’t make sense at all. I had so many questions, but little courage.

He took a step closer and I instinctively moved the other way. When he noticed, his eyes narrowed. I wondered what was going on in his head. _What did he want?_

"Mycroft", Sherlock suddenly exclaimed and jumped up from his chair. I nearly fainted there. Mycroft looked his brother's way, annoyed. "What are you doing here?"

As Sherlock showed up at the glass doors and glanced at me, he must've realised what mental state I was in because he moved closer to me, almost protectively. I stayed where I was, looking anywhere but at their faces.

"I wanted to see what you're up to."

"So _nosy_. You **_already_** _know_ , brother dear."

"I quite dislike your meddling, Sherlock."

"Nobody said I shouldn't."

I swallowed. _What are they talking about?_

"I'd like you to stop."

"Too late."

"Never too late."

" _Never?_ " Sherlock took a step towards me again, his arm almost touched mine. "Then a month from now wouldn't be late either, right?"

Mycroft let out a long sigh. I kept staring at my feet.

"Do me a favour."

"I'll consider it."

They were silent for a few moments, then Mycroft spoke again.

"Elisabeth", I looked up at him. The deadly look I got made me anxious. "Tomorrow, 7.45. **Don't. Be. _Late._** "

He turned for the door and left without another word. Sherlock walked over to me and we looked at each other. He gently rubbed my upper arms.

"You look _drained_. What about sleep?"

I didn't notice until he noted. I was totally exhausted. I had to agree with Mrs Hudson now, I really should've stayed in the hospital.

"Sounds good", I replied with a half smile.

I changed in the bathroom to another shirt and black trousers, picked up my phone and he led me to his bedroom. This room looked the most normal. I smiled up at the periodic table of elements on his wall as I sat on the edge of his bed, hiding my phone under the pillow. He remained standing, looking at me slightly confused. Sherlock seemed he was always in thought.

"You're not coming", I pointed it out as I climbed under the duvet.

"I have to think", he mumbled, watching me as I made myself comfortable and hissed and grimaced from pain. "But I'll join you eventually."

"Alright."

He smiled faintly and kissed my forehead before he turned off the light and left the room. It was so quiet here and the scent of Sherlock around me was strange to me. I kept thinking about the talk he had with Mycroft but all I could achieve with it was falling asleep after a while.

 

I woke up at 6.04.

I was lying on my right side, facing outside. It was so warm under the duvet I didn't even want to move after I put my phone back under the pillow. I felt a huge hand on the side of my left thigh and after a few moments I realised Sherlock snuggled up to me from behind. I blushed. _Well..._ a good way to start the morning. I wondered briefly if he was awake when he buried his face in the back of my neck or not.

I knew he was still asleep, judging from the way he was breathing. I really didn't want to wake him up, but I had to get up. At 6.30 I decided I'd move; slowly, gently pulled myself out from under his hand and made sure the duvet replaced my heat. Magically, he didn't wake up. I looked at him and smiled before I sneaked out of his room. I got dressed, brushed my teeth quickly and left him a sticky note on his laptop.

_Have a beautiful day, Sherlock! E x_

I left the flat — the door was open —, and looked around. Yesterday I didn't really check where I was, and now I was completely lost. Baker Street was unfamiliar to me. I had to use an online map to navigate and find my way to the office. I found a bakery and bought myself a croissant, realising now how much I missed it.

I got in the office by 7.42. My ribs disagreed with every movement and breath I took and once again I realised I was oblivious again and forgot to buy painkillers.

This day won't be easy, even if I didn’t have to deal with Mycroft...

Two minutes after I sat at my desk it turned out he already was in his office. He opened the door and looked in my direction, but I was too occupied with leaning down to switch on my computer. I wheezed almost silently as I straightened my back again and stared at the monitor instead of him. I was in so much pain. He walked slowly to my desk and I felt like my injuries started to hurt ten times more. I looked up at him, knowing how he used to say, **_manners, Elisabeth_** , and decided I didn’t want to start the day with that sentence.

"Good morning, sir", I said quietly.

Mycroft already looked slightly angry. Or I imagined it?

" _Morning_ , it is, _good_ , not quite so", came the dry reply, "next time tell me when you arrive."

"I didn't know you already was in your office, sir."

"You should've checked. I'm tired of looking after you all the time."

_I'm **sorry**?! Who set up CCTV cameras to stalk me?! **Santa Claus??**_

"Understood, sir." My voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Are you giving me an attitude now?" He already sounded threatening.

"No, _sir_."

I replied the same way and jerked a little when his fist hit my desk.

"You said you didn't enjoy making me angry. What a liar you are." I purposefully didn't look at him, I picked up my bag and pretended I was looking for my phones. "Well you can look forward for tonight. I have a very special plan in store for you."

My stomach clenched. I didn't like the way he was talking to me. I suspected he was ready to sabotage any plans I might've had with Sherlock and it didn't make me happy at all. I was about to promote Mycroft from _'Meanie'_ to **'Asshole'**.

"According to the terms I agreed to, I only work until four", I still kept looking at my bag's contents.

" **Look at me!** "

I did. That predatory gaze scared me a little.

" _Repeat_ what you just said, right **now** ", he ordered and I swallowed nervously.

"According to the terms I agreed to, I only work until four."

"Do you think so?" He leaned even closer to me and I was ready to push myself out of the way with my rolling chair. "Well let me give you a bit of advice. _You_ **do** what **_I_** **tell** you. Or you can find yourself in a very, _very_ delicate situation."

"What sort of situation?"

I felt his scent again and I wanted to hate myself for enjoying his attention. I was scared, **_yes,_** but somehow, weirdly, also was… turned on. My brain entertained itself with stupid thoughts again. Quite inappropriate, all of them.

_Oh **God** just **dominate** me_.

"Oh, I'm sure you could think of something", he narrowed his eyes. I wondered for a second why were his pupils so _wide_. It's not like it was dark in here. "After all, you're _clever_. Or so you think."

"I'm not staying after four", I argued quietly.

" _We_ will see, Elisabeth. Come in my office, now."

I blinked, slightly confused.

"But, the e-mails…"

" **Now!** "

I closed my eyes and got up, dropping my bag in my seat. I had no chance to eat my croissant... no chance to have a coffee. He let me go forward, then walked after me and closed the... no, he **locked** the door. My heart pounded in my chest like a drum. He bypassed me and ordered me to sit, which I did, carefully pretending I wasn't in pain. I didn’t want to look weak, not to him. Mycroft placed blank papers and a pen before me.

"Write me a speech. This Friday, I'll have to talk to those we met at Hill’s party."

I stared at him, then at the paper and the pen, then at him again.

"On paper?"

He gave me an amused look as he sat in his chair and opened his laptop.

"You're _swift_. **As always.** "

I pressed my lips together and bit on my tongue as I grabbed the pen. I started to write, even if I hadn't done this in ages. I wrote the page full with ordinary stuff, it wasn't too flashy at all. I thought it was decent enough.

"Finished already?" Mycroft looked up from his laptop when he noticed I stopped writing. Before I could say anything, he confiscated the paper and read it through. He glanced up at me and his eyes literally lit up with **Evil.** "That's all you're capable of? **_Really?_** Even a _degenerate_ can write a speech like that." And, without even thinking, he tore it to little pieces and threw it in his bin. I literally felt the blood leaving my face. " _Start again._ "

I swallowed many emotions and reactions now. As I obeyed my heart clenched but I did my best not to show it. I finished another speech. More formal, one and a half. He took it from me again as soon as he saw I was done. He hummed as he read it through. If I thought we were done, _I was **wrong**._

"Do you know what I think, Elisabeth?" He looked up at me again, and I knew he wouldn't be nice now either. "I think this is _garbage_."

I closed my eyes when he tore that to pieces again. My throat tightened. I wrote another speech. He tore that to pieces, too. And he tore the next, and the next, and the next. **_Disappointment._** _Good for nothing. **Failure.** Waste of time._ He stabbed me with his words again and again and I wasn't sure I was on the verge of crying because of the physical pain or because of the way he treated me, but I knew it was the latter. Sherlock was right. Only Mycroft could do _this_ to me. I was thirsty and hungry and I wanted to go away but I didn't dare to do so.

I wrote two pages full, this time. I was careful what words I used and I read it through two times, but I started to get tired. I looked up at Mycroft, visibly shaken. I had no power left in me to cover up my state. As soon as I put the pen down, he reached out for the paper and pulled it to himself. With a frown, he looked at the first, then the second page, then he looked up at me.

"Your lines aren't even lines. You can't even write straight? What a _useless_ secretary you are." I had to look down on my hands in my lap. I couldn't take it anymore. A tear fell on my fingers. "It's also full of spelling mistakes. Your writing is _ugly_. I don't even know why I bother keeping you. You're not good for anything."

"Can I leave?" I asked, my muffled voice betraying this was the last straw and I was fighting with a sob.

" **No.** And how many times do I have to tell you, **look at me** when I'm talking to you. Or are you so _stupid_ that you forget all the time **this is** how _decent_ people communicate?" I forced myself to look up at him, tears filling my eyes then rolling down on my face. Mycroft looked displeased. " _Control_ yourself", he snapped at me coldly. "You have nothing to be upset for. Crying won't help your situation. Did you think what you're doing here is _good enough_? That what you can provide for me is _near perfect_? Well, I must tell you something, you are a **_disappointment._** You're **very far** from perfect in **every sense**. If you can't even write a decent speech for me, I have no use of you." He tore the paper apart and I crumbled inside. "Bring me a tea. Perhaps that's a simple task enough _for someone as **limited** as you._ "

I got up. I felt dizzy and I barely could put any pressure on my right leg as I walked away. I didn't risk looking back at him as I unlocked his door and walked out. I knew there was two cameras outside his office and it'd be stupid of me to even try... but I really wanted to call Sherlock to get me out of here. He talked back to Mycroft, he could protect me and he could get me out of here.

I wished I wasn’t so proud, I would’ve called him. God I wished I had the guts to run for my bag. Or run away. But I didn’t. I walked to the counter where the supplies were and let my tears fall freely. I was sure he kept his eyes on me through CCTV, but I didn’t care. I had to let it go.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _But now I can do whatever I want with you and I can blame it on so called **self defense**._

While I was waiting for the water to boil, I wrapped my right arm around myself and I tried to keep myself together. My ribs hurt so much I was afraid I’d fall apart. I haven’t cried so much in ages. Considering the facts, I _barely_ cried from anything. Sometimes tears _did_ threaten to spill, but I fought them back and basically never broke down like this.

_Calm down. He’s doing this because he knows he’s upsetting you._

**_But why?_ **

_What did I do to deserve this?_ I saved him… and _God_ I’d do it again, even if he treated me like shit. I looked at the clock and tried to get myself together. He already made me spend two hours in his office but how many hours were ahead of me…

Sniffing, I finally could stop crying and with trembling hands, I made his tea. _Concentrate. Keep calm._ _This day will end eventually…_

“Elisabeth?” A deep voice called my name from the corridor and I nearly dropped Mycroft’s fine china.

“Sherlock?” I whimpered and sniffed again, putting down the tea quickly and wiped my face as I turned to him. I saw he sized me up at lightspeed, then he looked at my corner then at the tea I just prepared and put the puzzle together in a second. He glanced back at my face and I sighed. “It’s _fine_.”

“It’s _not_.”

The way he replied made me slightly panic. I wished not too long ago he’d come and tell his brother to **_fuck off_** – alright, not exactly this, but something amoung the lines –, but now that the situation was here, I didn’t think it’d help me in any way.

**Quite the contrary.**

“Please, don’t. Just… **don’t.** ”

Sherlock stepped closer and frowned slightly at my right thigh covered with my black, striped skirt.

“You’re bleeding through”, he noted.

I glanced down, seeing he was right. A small amount of blood was visible on it. I cursed in my mind, pressing my eyes together.

“I forgot to change the gauze.”

Before I could mumble anything else, his cold fingers brushed across my forehead.

“You have fever.”

“No… _I’m **fine**._ I just… forgot to take my painkillers.”

He looked down at me, stern, this time.

“You can’t work in this state.”

“I have to”, I swallowed and turned away from him, but he grabbed my left wrist gently.

“Elisabeth, you’re going to burn yourself out at this rate and being near Mycroft obviously isn’t helping. _Listen to me._ You need to rest.”

I put a hand on the counter and relied on it with a sigh.

“I can’t tell him”, I motioned at the closed office door. “I can’t go back there…”

“It’s fine. I’ll…”

“ _No_ ”, I shook my head. “That’d only make it worse for me. Don’t help… I’ll… endure it.”

Then, in the next moment, I could hear Mycroft’s velvet voice and I turned away from Sherlock.

“How kind of you, _brother dear,_ to pay a visit. Missing both of us so soon?”

Sherlock turned immediately to Mycroft while I pretended I was still stirring the tea.

“Can’t you see what you’re doing to her?”

I closed my eyes tight and decided this _wasn’t happening. **Nope.** Not happening._

“Why don’t you mind your own business? She left the hospital at her own risk as I’ve gathered and she decided she’d come back to work.”

“You know she won’t say no to you and you used it to your advantage.”

 _Oh my God, what did they talk about?_ I could say **no** to Mycroft! I drugged him once then locked him out of a house, I _could_ say no to him! I wasn’t a butterfly. I was about to tell Sherlock to shut his mouth when I started to feel funny. Maybe it was because I had no breakfast or maybe it was because what Mycroft did to me was just too much. I cleared my throat and frowned slightly when my hands went numb. I let go of the spoon.

Then – there was only darkness.

When I woke up, I was back at the hospital. Infusion again, damnit. Someone left my clothes on me but changed the gauze on my shoulder and on my thigh. As I turned my head, I felt sharp pain in the left side of my face. I raised my hand and touched my cheek. _Ouch._ Probably hit my face in the counter? With a frown, I looked around but there was no one in the room just me. I glanced at the nightstand and both of my phones were there with a paper so I sat up. I took a look at the note.

_Call me when you wake up. SH_

So, he was here. I smiled faintly. It was probably him who brought me here. I picked up my business phone and it had a new message.

**Send a text when you see this. Mycroft Holmes**

I blinked tiredly. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Mycroft now, but the sooner I get it over with, the better. He wrote it at 11am and it was the same day, just past 5pm. I wrote him a reply.

**I just saw it. Elisabeth Lone**

Just after I sent it, he called me. I stared at the phone in my hand and kept thinking if I should pick it up. He'd hurt me again probably, saying how weak I was for fainting. I sighed and forced myself to pick it up.

"Yes", I said quietly.

My voice was hoarse and I sounded hurt. This time, I didn't care.

"I hope you know you're not getting paid for today." Mycroft's mood didn't change either, it seemed. "And you still have to write that speech."

I wanted to stop talking to him so badly.

"Yes, sir."

I fought with the lump in my throat.

"I'm expecting you at 7.45 sharp tomorrow. **Don't be late.** "

I swallowed and wanted to reply but he ended the call. I tossed the phone back on the nightstand and picked up my personal one. It seemed Sherlock sent me a few texts before he visited me at work today.

**You have a nice day, too. SH**

**You didn't change the gauze, did you? SH**

**When will you have your lunch break? SH**

**If you're not replying this until 9, I'll visit. SH**

I smiled to myself and called him. It took him a few minutes to pick up.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm better", I replied quietly as I sat up.

"I'll take you home."

"Thank you so much, Sherlock. I really appreciate it."

"I'm on my way."

"Alright."

It was me who ended the call this time. I called the nurse and Chloe showed up. She gave me a bunch of new pills, removed the infusion and told me I should rest in the next few days. Well. I wouldn't be able to. Mycroft won't let me.

I stayed in the bed. I checked with the selfie camera if there was a bruise on my face, but I was glad there wasn't. Not too later Sherlock arrived. He knew which room I was in. I felt relieved when I finally saw him. He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. Honestly, I loved when he did this.

"You look much more better", he noted and I laughed weakly.

"Thanks."

"How's the face?" He gently brushed his fingers on my left cheek.

"It's fine", I shrugged as I leaned a little into his touch.

"We... I was worried."

I didn't miss how he started his sentence, but pretended I did. _Mycroft, **worried**?_ Ah, please. He didn't care. I could die and he'd be _happy._

"So will you take me home?" I asked then and he nodded.

"Let me grab your coat."

My bag wasn't with me, Sherlock said he already brought it to my flat and I was glad about it. I had to fill a form before he stopped me before the corner which led to the entrance.

"Wait", he grumbled and held out his right arm for me. I smiled and snaked my left around it. He looked at me with a smile. Then we went down and before the main entrance — I couldn't believe it — at least twenty men and women stood with cameras and notebooks. I almost stopped walking, but Sherlock pulled me gently. "Just smile. I'll get you through it."

Of course, I was so stupid. After all, he was famous. I was glad I could keep my cool exterior, because inside I was a mess. **_Shit._** I was the famous Sherlock Holmes's newest girlfriend. Well... that depended if the writer of the article was nice or not. I could end up as a 'whore'. Not like I cared, I didn't read any papers and never watched telly myself. I did as Sherlock asked and smiled, though I hated the flashes in my face. I found myself being guided by Sherlock, leading me through the crowd and catching a cab for us. I was relieved when we sat in the back.

"It didn't take them so long to notice", I noted and Sherlock wrapped his right arm around me, pulling me close. I slightly winced, but eased into his hold. He gently slipped his other hand under my chin and kissed me softly. When he pulled away I hummed. "Not like I care."

"You don't?" He looked in my eyes and I felt like he was curious about my answer.

"Nay. They're the worst kind. Meddling in people's life... but I hope some of them will try to approach me."

"Why?" He asked and I grinned.

"I'd love to punch a journalist in the face." He burst out laughing while I mused, "it's been dream of mine."

"Listen, I..." I cocked a brow at him to tell him I was paying attention, but we just arrived to my flat, so we had to get out. I insisted paying for the ride and we quickly made our way to my flat. "Wait a moment", he grumbled as we walked in the kitchen. "That... wasn't there last time."

I frowned and looked at the counter where he was pointing. We walked over there; someone left a note for me. It was just an A4 paper with four words printed on it.

**Naughty little Elisabeth.**

"What the Hell", I picked it up and turned to look at the other side of it, only the word 'naughty' written there from top to bottom.

"Who knows about that weekend?"

"What do you think?" I cocked a brow and I wondered briefly if Sherlock even knew about that mysterious man who threatened me.

Sherlock took the paper from me and he examined it, then looked around in my flat, searching for clues to who might've been there. I let him. Then I remembered Ninnie. I quickly made my way to my bedroom and got on my hands and knees to peek under my bed. She usually hid there.

_But she wasn't there._

I continued to look for her but she wasn't anywhere. I got more and more upset.

"Sherlock, I can't find Ninnie, did you see her?" He looked at me with a puzzled expression and shook his head. I looked everywhere again, under the bed, behind my wardrobe, on top of it... but she was nowhere. My personal phone buzzed and I got it out from my pocket. Sherlock walked next to me and we stared at a picture of Ninnie.

"No", I whimpered. My cat looked safe and alive, but someone got a hold of her on the back of her neck and held her up in the air. "No, no, no..."

I got a text from the number.

**Friday, 7pm. Don't tell anyone or I'll cut her head off and feed it to the rats.**

I looked at Sherlock who already got his own phone in his hand and called someone.

" _Emergency._ I need to see who's been to her flat this afternoon as soon as possible. Keep quiet. Whoever it is, has her cat and threatens to kill it if she tells anyone." I heard grumbling from the phone. "I know about it because we discovered the note together, obviously. Will you help?" Sherlock looked at me and flashed a half smile. "Yes. _Brother mine_ , I'll wait..."

"You told Mycroft!" I whined as soon as he ended the call. "He won't help me, he hates me..."

Sherlock only smiled at me and gently pushed me down so I'd sit on the edge of my bed.

"He _will_ help. Don't worry."

I swallowed nervously and I tried not to think what that bastard could do to my cat. Ninnie never hurt anyone, why would someone kidnap her? Of course, this was a way to get to me, and a very good one. I buried my face in my hands. She was my only weakness.

Sherlock hummed when he got the pictures not too much later from Mycroft. I was surprised; I didn't think he'd actually try and help me, not after how he treated me today. Sherlock showed me the pictures. I never saw this man before. Middle-aged, black haired... prepared with a box to kidnap my cat.

I was upset a moment ago. Now I was **pissed like Hell**.

"Do you want me to stay?" Sherlock asked and I shook my head. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I'll be fine."

I faintly smiled up at him and he got a hold of my hand.

"I'll get him."

"I know", I smiled wider. "And thank you. I really appreciate it."

He must've noticed I was in a different state than not too long ago, but didn't mention it.

"I'll eat something then head to bed." I promised him.

"Good idea." He stroked my right cheek and kissed my forehead. "Good night, then."

"Good night, Sherlock."

I waited until he left my flat, then I locked my door. I opened my fridge and made myself a sandwich, and while I ate it, I sent a reply to the kidnapper.

**Let's do it now.**

I wondered what he wanted from me. I hoped I could strike bargain with him. I didn't care what anyone did to me but I was very pissed my cat got into trouble because of me. I didn't have anyone except Ninnie and Sherlock and I wasn't about to let either of them suffer.

**Fine. A cab is waiting outside. Get in it.**

I swallowed the last bite of my food, then got up and put my coat on before I left my flat.

I got in the cab and didn't have to say anything, we left. A good twenty minutes drive after we stopped before an abandoned warehouse. Great. _Cliché._ I reached in my pocket and realised I left my business phone in my coat.

Maybe this will come in handy later.

I casually walked in the building, hands in pockets while I had my instincts turned on 150%. This wasn't a good place to fight, but I didn't get to choose, so might as well suck it up. I heard music, so I went there to check it out and there he was. In a candle lit room, with Ninnie in a cat carrier.

"Ah, you've found me." He turned to look at me with a big grin. I decided this is the last day he had all of his teeth. "Come over here to me and sit. You must be cold."

I did as he told me to, noticing his medal hanging around his neck. _An ankh._ **Okay.** I didn't anticipate this. I sat on a box and looked at Ninnie. She was fine.

"Don't worry, I didn’t hurt her."

"Yet", I whispered and he laughed.

"Ah yes. I see you've spent some time with Sherlock Holmes. You're clever, but if you were as clever as he is, you wouldn't be here."

"If I was as clever as he is, I would let him catch you."

_But now I can do whatever I want with you and I can blame it on so called **self defense**._

"Alright. Let's get it over with. Be good and draw an ankh on your forehead." He showed me a bowl with blood in it and gave me a mirror as well. I cocked a brow; his right lower arm was in gauze. So it was his blood. "Any questions?"

"Yes. Why with your blood?"

He smiled.

"It’s something I believe in.”

It was my turn to smile. _I hope what you believe in will have mercy for you, because I won’t._

Then – my phone started to ring.

He cocked a brow at me and looked at my pocket, picking up a dagger and putting it at my throat.

“Get it out of your pocket and answer it. Hands free, so I can hear. Whoever it is, tell them everything’s fine.”

“Alright”, I complied, acting like I was nervous. I knew who called me. It could only be him. I wished he wasn’t so nosy before, now I was glad. I picked up my phone slowly and put it on hands free mode. “Good evening, Mr Holmes. I forgot to pick up your suit, I’m sorry. I’m afraid **_you’ll have to find…_** someone else to do it for you.”

The man cocked a brow. I hoped he didn’t find it suspicious.

“That’s exactly what I called you for, it should be here in my office by now.” His voice sounded the same when he was commanding me in Hill’s residence. He was in battle mode again. And he knew I was in trouble. He noticed. “Which laundry was it?”

As in, give him a clue as to where to find me. I didn’t see any laundry nearby. I rolled my eyes, looking annoyed, while my hand shook with the phone. I put on a nice show for this man for sure.

“I took a **_photo_** of the laundry and sent it to your phone earlier.” I replied with a sigh. “Take **_a cab_** and you can ** _pick it up_**.”

He went silent for a moment. Then he said something which warmed me from the pit of my stomach up to my face.

“ ** _Gotcha._** ”

He knew. He knew exactly what to look for, what to listen for. The CCTV, the cab… he’d find me. I’ll just have to keep this serial killer talk.

And oh, I knew they **_loved_** talking.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck Mycroft and fuck his rescue plan. Fuck everything! This man is **_so dead_**.

I looked at the man and he smiled at me as he took my phone when Mycroft ended the call.

"Sorry about that", I sighed and watched as he put my business phone in his pocket.

I was wondering briefly how much time I had. Would Mycroft really save me? Would he rush police here? I couldn't decide. I felt back in Hill's house he wanted to keep me safe — how he tried to pull me out all sorts of dangerous situations all the time until I put him out of the picture myself. Twice. And how angry he was when he realised I did...

But things changed. He gave me the coldest shoulder lately and because of him, my life was miserable and bitter. I wanted him to be pleased by my efforts... but it seemed I'd never be enough for him. I'm not living up to his expectations.

But here, now, I felt much less miserable. I felt like I was in power, I controlled here, I played the big game. I was in danger and **_I loved it._** In the office I felt like I was in danger too, but that was very different.

I realised something. I needed to separate myself from Mycroft, to stop being his secretary, and I'd be free.

"So, the other victims", I mused and cocked a brow at his medal. "Did they have pets, too?"

"Oh yes", the man grinned darkly. "One of them didn't want to obey me."

"And what did you do?"

He raised a brow and drew his dagger away from my throat. I literally forgot it was there.

"I threatened her she must watch as I skinned his dog alive. I even started it."

I wasn't prepared for the intense hatred that arose from the pit of my gut. This was new. I never felt this much hatred in my entire life. I could feel it setting my body on fire.

"I hope you're just kidding..." I whispered and the fool thought I went pale and my voice shook from fear.

"Oh no. Not at all. You should've seen her while I was doing it." A wicked smirk. "She was hysterical. I didn't kill the dog, though. Put him up for adoption afterwards. And her owner? I cut her pretty belly open. It took her twenty minutes to leave this wretched world. I love to have fun for a long time, you see."

So that's why Ninnie was here. It's her or me. I had other plans.

"You know, you're a fucking unfortunate asshole", I spat angrily, hands trembling from all those raw emotions that coursed through me. I started to think of ways how to kill this man and no thought satisfied me enough."You sick fuck..."

"You have a dirty mouth for lady", he grinned wider, "I'll have to punish that."

" _Will you?_ "I gritted my teeth and snarled. Fuck Mycroft and fuck his rescue plan. Fuck everything! This man is **_so dead_**. "I'd love you to try. Do it. Try and hit me."

He really did try. He had good reflexes. But not good enough. I grabbed his arm and twisted it, just like the guard's arm back at Andrew's home. My snarl became even more vicious when he stared at me, surprised. I easily rotated his arm around and his shoulder dislocated as I pushed it more and more. He let out an agonizing shriek and dropped the dagger.

"Oh, would you like that back? It'd make things easier for you, right?"

He tried to hit me with his other fist and I grabbed that too, standing up and turning it the same way as his other arm. Another scream. This one didn't dislocate; it broke. I felt the **_rip-rop_** with my fingers. So delicate little bones. Takes months to heal. It wasn't enough for me.

He screamed incomprehensible words as I kicked him off his box. I didn't even feel my ribs and I was glad. He fell on his back and tried to wriggle away, but I walked after him like a dark angel of revenge. I caught his leg and put one of my foot just above his knee.

"Nonono, no, please no, please!"

"This might hurt a little", I warned him as I reached for his ankle down below and pulled, pulled, pulled then suddenly ripped it towards myself when **CRACK!** His knee broke. I found weird enjoyment in this. The sounds he made were inhuman and I realised he pissed himself. "You disgusting **_creature_**."

He didn't even beg anymore when I started to do the same with his other leg. By the time I was done he passed out. I got my phone out of his pocket and called Mycroft.

"We're almost there, hang on!" He told me and I smiled... because he used the same tone when I was severely injured and still needed to disable the bomb.

"Send ambulance." I whispered.

"Are you injured?" He asked but I didn't reply. Did I imagine...? Did he really sound worried? "Elisabeth..."

I didn't say anything, just hung up. Then I slipped my phone in my pocket and went to pick up Ninnie in the carrier.

As I reached the entrance the police arrived. I counted ten cars at least. A man rushed to me with worried face.

"Are you Elisabeth Lone?" He asked.

"Yes", I replied calmly.

"Good evening, I am DI Greg Lestrade." I looked at him, waiting, still with the carrier in my hands. He ran his fingers in his graying hair and sighed. "Sherlock told me it was an emergency..."

I saw a black car arrive from the corner of my eye.

"It's still an emergency. The man is severely injured."

The look Lestrade gave me was almost way too amusing but I knew it'd be inappropriate to laugh right in his face.

"The man?"

On the other side of the road, a cab stopped and a lean figure immediately jumped out of it.

"The case of the crimson ankh is solved." I cocked a brow and forced myself to look back at Lestrade. "You'll find the killer in there. Unfortunately, his shoulders and knees are broken. He's also unconscious. Should require some medical attention."

He stared at me befuddled and I literally _felt_ Mycroft's presence near me. I knew he heard every word.

"Elisabeth!"Sherlock spoke and I turned to look at him, noticing he brought his friend. I beamed a smile at both of them, while I felt my boss's stare on me. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course. We're both fine. The case of the crimson ankh is solved."

"Is it?" Sherlock's eyebrows shot up on his forehead.

I explained the blood and the sick asshole's show and how I treated him afterwards. John gasped, Greg still stared befuddled. I still ignored Mycroft.

"Then, he's all yours, Griff." Sherlock looked at Lestrade who groaned.

" _Greg_ ", John corrected him.

"Greg", echoed Sherlock and I laughed."By the way, this is Doctor John Watson, my friend", Sherlock introduced us finally. He seemed so proud when he said he was his friend. We shook hands. "This is Elisabeth Lone I told you about."

"Pleasure to meet you", I smiled at John and he smiled back. His hand was so strong. "I love your blog so much."

At that, John shot a cocky look at Sherlock.

"She _loves_ **my** blog", he said and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"The man needs a doctor", I smiled at them, "and I'm sure you'd like to look around in there."

"Good thought", he nodded and smiled at me. "Take the cab we came with."

That was the moment Mycroft interrupted, however, he didn't come any closer to us.

"I'd rather make sure she gets home safely myself."

I didn't look at him and answered Sherlock instead.

"I'd rather walk. Goodnight, gentlemen."

As I started to walk away, John and Sherlock bid me good night as well before they went after Lestrade. Mycroft, however, thought it'd be a good idea to follow me.

"So", he started, "you'd rather walk for at least an hour instead of letting me take you home."

I remembered what I was thinking about when I was in the building and I steeled myself, holding the carrier tighter to my chest. Ninnie meowed quietly.

"Go away", was all I said without even looking at him.

"That's not going to happen." I stopped walking and turned to look at him. Mycroft had his umbrella with him and he was just as elegant as always. I forced myself to think differently about him.I forced myself to try and hate him. After all, he was disgusting. A stalker. A bully. A man with power who used that power for whatever he wanted. He was the creepiest man on the face of the Earth. He narrowed his eyes. "Let me take you home."

"So you could bully and humiliate me more?" I spat back at him."I've had enough of it."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes just slightly more. He probably thought I was all talk.

"And? What are you going to do about it?" He challenged.

I stepped closer to him. The carrier was between us but I still smelled his cologne. I stared up in his eyes, hard, and I saw he thought I wouldn't say anything which would surprise him.

"I quit."

My words had more effect than I thought. Mycroft did look momentarily surprised and that was all I needed. I turned on my heels and continued walking.

"You can't", he mumbled behind me and I smirked to myself, triumphant. I heard he followed. So persistent. "If I'm not signing it, you can't quit."

I gritted my teeth.

"You will. Because I'm not going in there again."

"Elisabeth, stop being ridiculous. I'd have to record it and I'm sure you don't want it in your file. It could make it hard for you in the future."

I took a deep breath. What a manipulative asshole. I wondered why was he so stubborn about it. If he hated me so much, why can't he just let me go?

"I don't care. I'm not planning to stay a secretary anyway."

I heard he stopped walking. I didn't slow down, didn't look back.

He was right, it took me an hour to get to home. I was cold, but I didn't really feel it because of the adrenaline. How could he be such an asshole, I just couldn't put a finger on it. I let Ninnie out and hugged her for at least half an hour before I fed her, then I had a shower and wrapped myself up in a towel. I just finished putting on new gauze on my wounds when someone rang my bell. I sighed. It was past 9, who could it be?

"Let me in, I have something very important to tell you", said Sherlock and I sighed, letting him in. I quickly put on clothes, though I was thinking if I should leave only the towel on me. When he arrived, I stuffed my face with omelet. "I heard you wanted to quit your job."

I rolled my eyes. Did Mycroft tell him? What a prick. He wanted Sherlock to persuade me to stay? Well, he could try.

"Yes. I'm not going back there."

Sherlock pulled his phone out and showed me pictures of a young man. I didn't understand but he started to explain briefly.

"Hitman. Hired to assassinate him."

I stared up at Sherlock's face to see if he was serious or not. But he looked dead serious. I looked at the screen again.

"And what do you want me to do about it? Jump in the way of the bullet? I'm not an agent."

"Mycroft trusts you."

"And?"

"You're needed to stay there."

"Why? I don't owe him anything."

"Didn't he rush to the rescue as soon as he sensed you were in danger?" Sherlock cocked a brow and what he said made me uncomfortable.

"That may be so, but I didn't need him. I don't need him."

I stubbornly stabbed my omelet again. Sherlock sat on the other chair.

"Listen... if you're not doing it for him, do it for me." I looked up at him in disbelief. "Please! If anything happens to him..."

"I don't care if anything happens to him!" I barked angrily and the amused look Sherlock gave me only made me angrier."No, I don't! I don't care about him."

"It's alright to lie to me", he said softly, "but you shouldn't lie to yourself."

"I'm not lying to myself, I loathe him."

As I boiled he got a hold of my hands.

"Please, stay. At least until I catch him."

I growled to myself, seething. Sure I tried to make myself believe I hated him. I tried to remember how he treated me and I tried to treat him the same way. But Sherlock was right. It was him who made sure I'd have back up. He so cleverly got the information I told him and immediately reacted to it.

I was so confused.

"Answer me something, though. He saved me tonight. But why when in the morning he treated me like shit?"

Sherlock gazed at me for a long, long time.

"I have no idea."

I knew he lied.

 

As unhappy I was with how things turned out to be, I still went to work the next day. I hated even the thought of going in his office, but I was there at 7.44, telling him I was present. He simply nodded, didn't even look at me.

I still got the cold shoulder and I fucking hated it.

I started to work as usual, starting with his e-mails. When I was finished with that, he called me in his office.

And it started over again.

It was different now, this time. He made me write on paper again but he didn't tell me so degrading things; he only read them through and said 'no', tossing them back to me.

Two hours later I was so fed up I didn't even start. He glanced at me.

"What's the matter, no more ink in the pen?"

I clenched my jaw.

"I'm done. I'm not writing anymore."

He leaned back in his chair and put his hands together, lacing his fingers in his lap.

"Why?"

"Because you throw everything back at me."

"Wouldn't you think it'd be wise to ask _why_?"

The stare I gave him made Mycroft smile.

"Why, then?" I sighed, deciding I'd play along.

"What does each and every one of them lack?" He cocked a brow.

"This isn't an answer to my question."

"It is", he said almost gently. "Look at them, what's missing?"

I tiredly started to look at the speeches I wrote and I didn't find anything bad about them. They were all decent. Sometimes too fancy or less. I shook my head.

"They all sound fine to me."

Mycroft sighed and I looked up at him. Was it the light or his expression was truly different than it used to be?

"It's _you_ what's missing", he said then and I stared at him befuddled.

"What?" I mumbled, I couldn't believe my ears.

"You never include _yourself_. I told you I'd talk to those we met at the party, and you purposefully leave yourself out of my speech, despite _you_ were who saved them." I couldn't say anything. I felt my cheeks burn. Am I imagining things now? "And honestly, it upsets me. You truly think you're not worth to mention when they are alive because of _you_."

I felt my stomach turn from all the confusing feelings. I didn't know what to say.

"I never would've done it without your help", I mumbled then, still feeling incredibly confused.

"That may be so. But it wasn't me who put their life in danger." He sighed. "Mostly because you never let me."

I almost broke down again.

I wasn't prepared for the things he told me and it seemed he knew perfectly how to make me feel like I was a complete idiot. Because that was what this did to me. I fidgeted with the pen and swallowed nervously.

"I need a little break", I whispered and he nodded.

"Alright. Go and get yourself your favourite latte."

I looked at his eyes but he already started to pay attention to his laptop instead. Why was he so different now? What happened to him? Maybe Sherlock told him not to be a prick?

Yes... probably that was what happened.

I left his office and took a lift downstairs, all the while trying to fight to get really emotional about what he told me just now. I tried to forget it and continue fake hating him but I failed miserably. He was a manipulating, calculating _machine_ , not a human. He did his best to keep me as his secretary, until he had use of me. He wasn't being kind, he just did what he needed just to keep me in this position.

I knew. **God,** _I knew._ And I still couldn't help myself.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_The Lord is fucking testing me._ **   
> 

I walked in his office and locked the door behind myself. Mycroft didn't look up at me, he kept typing on his laptop as I approached him. I started to slowly unbutton my blouse.

"Do you know what will you do now?" I asked him quietly as I reached his desk and wiped the papers off of it.

I unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it when I heard him sigh because he _knew_.

"Enlighten me", Mycroft cooed as he looked up at me and leaned back in his chair.

I closed his laptop and pushed it aside before I climbed up on his desk. He watched me kneel above him as I opened my blouse and revealed my pretty pink bra and matching panties. His eyes wandered, but eventually looked in my eyes again, waiting.

"You'll fuck me silly right here, right now", I grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to me as he cocked a brow.

"So lewd", he noted quietly, careful not to let me know he liked what I just said, his eyes never leaving mine. He had total control but I was about to get him out of this state. "Maybe I should spank you instead for being so naughty."

I was wrong, he never would let me control. I already started to get wet because of his words.

"Do you think that would be a punishment for me, sir?" I batted my eyelashes at him innocently.

"Certainly. You'd get orgasm denial and an hour corner time after. That works like a charm on you..."

I traced my fingers down on his chest to his belt while I kept eye contact. He leaned back in his chair and let me wander even lower and he was already hard as a rock. _Yes._ I turned him on. He could control his expression or the conversation but not his body.

"And if I pleasure you with my lips, sir, would that make you forget this punishment?"

I saw the change in his eyes. I was giving him a hard time. But he didn't want it to show.

"Maybe. I'll see. If you're a good girl and eager to swallow."

I started to undo his belt — when an incredibly sharp pain made me moan.

"...ah, **_SHIT!_** " I cursed out loud as I sat up in my bed. It was dark around me and I must've been panting because my side woke me up. I removed my right hand from between my thighs. "Shit!" I cursed again, frustrated and unsatisfied as I turned on the light.

I was painfully alone in my bedroom. I groaned as I reached for my painkillers and tried to forget the dream.

_No. Won't do._

Goddamnit. Since when was I so... dirty? I closed my eyes tight as I swallowed a pill and tried to get the words he said out of my head.

Not like he was any nicer to me lately, because he wasn't. I couldn't meet with Sherlock as much as I wanted either, I was always tired in the past few days. And this... frustration. It didn't make it easier.

When I realised I was too horny to go back to sleep, I stared at my personal phone. 3.12. **Fuck.** About three hours and I'll meet him.

How will I get this out of my head?

When I remembered he told me the meeting with those who were at the party was today, on Friday... and he was about to use a perfected speech I wrote... I knew I'd have trouble sleeping at all. I had to be there too. Ungh. I wasn't in the mood to meet those people. They were high above me. Important politicians...

I switched off the light and lied back on the bed, covering myself up until my neck with my thick duvet. Why did I dream something like this? I buried my face in my pillow and smiled faintly. Well, imagining things wouldn't hurt anyone, right? So I thought of what would happen in my dream if I didn't wake up and fell asleep as I got lost in the... _details_.

The next morning I arrived to the office too early. As I waited for Mycroft I ate my croissant and switched on my computer. By the time he arrived I was halfway through his e-mails. I looked up at him and **_damn_** he looked gorgeous. I loved this dark blue pinstriped suit. He held his umbrella and coat in one hand, laptop case in the other. I tried to look more formal today, too; would be hard to move properly with my broken ribs but I made extra precautions not to bleed through today and also brought my painkillers, just in case.

"Good morning, sir", I looked up at him and tried not to think of my _~~juicy~~_ dream.

"Good morning", he replied as he placed a paper in front of me, "I'll need these documents urgently."

I took a look at the paper and got to my feet, picking it up.

"Right away, sir", I mumbled.

"Elisabeth", he said quietly and I looked up at him.

"Yes, sir?"

He seemed slightly confused and I noticed he grabbed his umbrella tighter. For a moment, our eyes met and I saw he had been struggling with himself to say something just before his expression smoothed out again.

"Nothing", he sighed, then turned towards his office.

I looked after him — _no you fucking liar, you checked him out and damnnnn **dat booty**_ —, then walked to the lift and called it. I looked at the paper again. **_His_** handwriting. **_Le gasp!_** It was so beautiful.

To my surprise, I met with Sherlock and John on the way. I had to go through the buffet to get to the files Mycroft requested and they were heading for the lift.

"Latte?" He asked and I raised a mug of it. I laughed a little, then stopped quickly from the pain. He was unbelievable. "Good morning."

"Good morning to both of you too." John nodded at me as Sherlock gave me the latte. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I wanted to tell you something" said Sherlock. The way John looked at me — I knew I wouldn't like it. "Maybe sit?"

"Sure", I shrugged and we sat down. I sipped my latte. "What's this about?"

"The truth", Sherlock laced his fingers on the table. "I uh... _maybe_ seduced you in order to get to the killer."

I lifted my eyebrows and sipped my drink again. I wasn't surprised; it was just a matter of time, really. I glanced at John; he probably tried to persuade Sherlock to tell me.

"I had a feeling you'd tell me this sooner or later", I sighed, "but why me?"

Sherlock cleared his throat.

"You had something... which he needed." My eyes darkened. **_Ninnie._** Of course. Because of him, my cat could've died. Okay... I was slightly pissed now. "But I knew you could handle yourself. Actually, you handled yourself better than I anticipated."

"Well... next time don't put my cat in danger", I grumbled. "I don't care about myself, but Ninnie is all I have."

"I'm..." Sherlock visibly struggled. "Sorry."

I sighed and smiled at him.

"It's fine."

"Really? You're not angry?"

"A little, because you used Ninnie as a bait. But I wanted to catch that maniac too. So." I shrugged again. "Let's forget it. I have a request though." He nodded.

"Yes, what would you like me to do?"

"I'd like to stay friends with you." At his surprised expression I laughed. "No, really. Sometimes I'd help you with your, uh... _investigations_."

John looked more surprised than Sherlock. Maybe he thought I'd make a scene or cry because of the break up. But all in all, I didn't believe Sherlock would have me for long. He wasn’t that type. Ah well. _Back in the market. Young and free._

"Friend?" I didn't realise Sherlock froze until now. "You don't want to... say, ruin my reputation for using you for a case?"

" _Nah._ Not my style. And I kinda suspected. And I also told you, I hate journalists."

"Well, then. John was more upset about it than you", he stood, grinning, and looked down at John. "I told you Elisabeth was better than most." Sherlock walked to me and smiled down at me. "So... _friends_."

"Friends", I nodded.

"Good." He nodded as well. "Come on then, John, we need to go."

I waved after them and I felt strangely empty. So... yes... _free again._ No more kisses from Sherlock. I sighed deeply. Too bad. I enjoyed them. I continued my way down, taking another lift to the files. I took a look at the paper and found all thirteen of them rather quickly. The lights down here weren't that good, it was underground, so no natural light reached this place and it was also rather... dusty. As I finished and held the paper with the files in one of my arms, a man showed up on the top of the small staircase.

 _My, my, where have you been all my life?_ Tall, lean, brown and short, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes... perfectly lined nose... and maybe a bit too thin lips. Ah well. Everyone must have a flaw, right? He noticed I was watching him and flashed a smile at me. _Oh my._ He was so handsome. I instinctively smiled back, no teeth on show, as I walked to the staircase. He came down and stopped before me.

He had a brilliant looking suit and waistcoat on, blue, matching his eyes, with a silk silver tie. Damn he was a feast to my eyes.

"Well, who might you be?" He asked and I nearly melted from his voice. "Should I call the security? Or should I rather... lock the door and keep you here for an interrogation?"

**_Holy shit._ ** _You don't have to lock the door to 'interrogate' me._

"My boss wouldn't be happy if I'm not going back in time", I moved my arm with the files in it and I saw something weird in his gaze. Something I only noticed Sherlock and Mycroft do. He was looking at little details on my dress, my posture and my expression. "But I'd be happy to have lunch later."

"Would you, now?" He looked in my eyes again and kept his smile. He nodded. "At lunch, then."

"Alright", I started to walk up the stairs and thought _yes! So soon after getting dumped!_ This day was so bittersweet so far. I managed to get back, finished my latte and went in Mycroft's office, placing the files on his desk along with the paper. "Here are the files, sir."

He didn't look up from his laptop.

"I saw you met Sherlock."

 ** _What??_** He kept _checking on_ me? On his **_laptop??_** What was wrong with this man? I was only gone for twenty minutes, couldn't he stop being so nosy for at least half an hour?

" _Yeees_ ", I pulled the word and made it sound like a question, indicating I was wondering why he noted this little fact.

"What did he want?"

 ** _Oh my God._** I wished I had the courage to tell him to piss off. I clenched my jaw.

"He broke up with me." He looked up at me with literal question marks in his eyes, so I continued. "He told me he used me in order to catch the killer, and now that he did, he offered we should end it. So it’s over. We're friends."

Mycroft leaned back as he watched my face, probably trying to figure out why I didn't act upset about it. I waited for him to ask another question.

"Have you found all the files?"

"Yes, sir."

 ** _Good._** The boyfriend topic was finally over. This _meddling Mycroft_ started to get on my nerves.

"Good. Please make copies of them." I nodded and picked up the files again, leaving the paper he wrote on his desk. "Elisabeth..." I turned and looked at him. "How's the side?"

I grimaced.

"Painful. But better each day."

"Shoulder? Leg?"

"Those are much less painful." I shrugged, with my uninjured shoulder. "I take care of them."

He nodded and turned to his laptop again. I wondered how could he simultaneously make calls, check his e-mails and keep his eyes on me. **_God fucking damnit._** I should tell him not to do that. It was so _creepy_. I couldn't walk down the corridor without thinking he's watching me?

I walked to the copy room. It was two levels lower than his office and it usually was empty. Like right now. So I started to put the files in the machine and started to copy them.

At the third one, though, it stopped working. I checked and the paper ran out. I groaned and started to search for a replacement. Of course, there was only a huge filing cabinet and on the top of it – the replacement.

I wasn’t so tall which came in handy when I needed to sneak around. 5’2” is really not tall, I was about the same height as Mrs Hudson. Both Mycroft and Sherlock were taller than me, them being around 6’. Hence the reason why I probably received a lot more forehead kisses from Sherlock, he needed to lean down to me too much to reach my lips. Which was kind of cute, in my opinion.

_Damn, I’ll miss those forehead kisses so much…_

„Sir”, I sighed when Mycroft picked up his phone. „The paper ran out and I have a problem.”

„What sort of a problem?”

He didn’t sound as annoyed as I thought he would be. That surprised me. I cleared my throat.

„I _uh…_ can’t reach the replacement.”

Mycroft made a noise and I swore it was the start of a laughter he forced back.

„I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and I bit my lip. While I waited I made sure the copied files were stocked together. Mycroft arrived soon and immediately deduced the situation. My face burned. I killed men twice as big as me and here I was, not being able to reach the top of a filing cabinet. It really was ridiculous. He easily got hold of the stock of papers and turned to give them to me. The way his lips turned down gave me a hint he tried not to smile.

„Thank you, sir”, I quickly took the papers from him and opened the wrapping, putting them where they needed to be.

„Anytime”, Mycroft replied before he walked out.

My face was still burning fifteen minutes later when I went back in his office. _Anytime,_ he said. I imagined calling him while I was in the supermarket to get me tomato sauce from the top shelf. God that was so fucking annoying, I always had to ask people around me to get things for me. It was rather embarrassing.

„Is that all?” He asked, picking up the freshly copied papers and browsing through them.

„Yes, all of them.”

„Alright. Put the files back where you got them from.”

„Yes, sir.”

I picked up the files and ran down again. It seemed today was a running day. I kept my eyes open to find that handsome man from earlier, but it appeared he worked down in there with the files, because he still was there. When I walked down the stairs, he glanced up at me from the desk, which was at the other side of the room. He sat between the desk and the wall.

„Back so soon?” He asked me and I nodded.

„My boss wanted me to copy them.”

„Give them to me, I’ll put them back for you.” He stood and I noted that he indeed was just as tall as Mycroft. „Though, you need to sign a paper what did you take and when. I forgot it the last time.”

„Oh, sorry”, I blinked and remembered this was usually the routine. „Are you new, then?”

„What gave it away?” He smiled and put a paper in front of me. He already filled out the time I came down for them, so I quickly wrote down the files’ numbers and signed it. „My second week.”

„Really? Is it good so far?”

He leaned down and looked at what I wrote, copying the files’ numbers and writing in the bring back time before he gave me the pen again. I signed it once more.

„I made no mistake.” I looked at his bright blue eyes and he bowed his head politely. „Until I met you.”

„Well, I’m sorry about it”, I cocked a brow as if saying, _no, I’m not._

„My name is Sherrinford Holton, by the way. Pleased to meet you, Elisabeth.”

I blushed. So he read my signature.

„That’s a nice way to get a lady’s name”, I cocked a brow and thought for a second, who’d give their son a name like _Sherrinford?_

„Well, I’m not sorry about it”, he held his hand out for me and I slipped mine in his. **_The Lord is fucking testing me_** , I realised when he kissed my hand. „So, at lunch then, Elisabeth. I’ll wait for you.”

„I’ll be there”, I reassured him, then walked back up to Mycroft’s office. I beamed a smile at him and when he looked up at me, he probably had no idea why I seemed so happy. „Anything else you need, sir?”

„No, you can continue your work with the e-mails. Tell me if Lady Smallwood checks in.”

„Understood, sir”, I nodded, leaving his office.

As I sat at my desk I kept wondering about that man downstairs. Couldn’t be easy to sit at that desk during the entire day, completely alone, just the dust and lamplight. What a waste keeping an eyecandy like him there.

But I was about to see him again, and very soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this chapter, definitely more than I thought I would. I like it when I write a story and character suddenly **POPS UP** out of the blue. Like, even **I** didn't anticipate this.  
>  Also, how I imagine Sherrinford? Tall and dark and mysterious. I guess, Tom Hiddleston's appearance in The Night Manager would be just perfect. I seriously recommend that one, it's amazing, and only eight episodes, but worth watching, definitely.  
> Ahh. All of these twists in this story... I don't know where we are headed. Probably towards **darkness.**  
> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „You don’t owe me anything.”  
> „Wrong. I owe you my life.”

The meeting we had to attend went by smoothly. Or so I thought. When I was offered a seat at the table I was wondering for a few moments why the Hell was I here. Even the clothes they wore worth more than my monthly salary. Ah well. Let's not think about that.

Mycroft spoke, of course, exactly what I wrote and he corrected. He never needed the paper. It was a rather long speech, almost two pages and he simply told it all by heart. I wondered how was he capable of doing this, then I remembered his brain worked differently than mine.

I can't even remember a shopping list if it's longer than three things.

So when certain words like _courage_ , _selflessness_ and _bravery_ were spoken, I was a little taken aback. He altered the speech slightly. I looked at him and he looked back at me; his eyes mysterious and expression carefully guarded. **Well.** I'll never get it out of him _why_.

When it was finally over though, the others – I counted, thirteen of them, not everyone was here from the party – appreciated it. Then an old, white haired man in glasses leaned forward and laced his fingers on the table as he nodded at me. His eyes were dead and his nose bigger than an crow’s. I remembered him from the party, Mr Shawn. We had a nice little chat. Which was fake. Now he looked at me very differently. There I felt myself I was only a decoration… until I started to kill off the guards around them. Right now, I knew I was a potential ally to him.

_I didn’t like where this was going **at all**._

"So, after all, it turns out you are to be trusted with such missions. As I gathered, you're a decent agent, yes?"

I blinked, twice. _Don't lie, they already know. So this is why I had to come._

"I completed my training, but that doesn't make me an agent. I'm really just a secretary."

"As it says here", a woman, the only one apart from me spoke with a file on the table before her, **_my_** _file,_ as I realised a moment later, "you were the best in the class and completed everything perfectly. Why not stay with MI6?"

I could feel Mycroft's leg move next to me, just slightly. I wondered if he knew we'd talk about this.

"As this is recorded in my file", I leaned back, not paying attention to my broken ribs, "the reason is also recorded, I presume."

"Enlighten us", Mr Shawn told me.

I stared at him what felt like an eternity before I spoke. I was cornered; and I never liked to be cornered.

"My cousin, who inspired me to become an agent, was betrayed by his team and he was burned alive during a mission."

"So that took your enthusiasm?"

"As I thrive to reach the bold old age, yes."

"But you could work alone."

"Sadly, no. They thought my talents shouldn't be wasted as I was a great leader. They wanted me to lead a group of specialists on a mission in the East."

"But you refused."

"Yes."

"And became a secretary instead."

"Yes."

"And you're wasting your talents."

I narrowed my eyes just slightly.

" _Yes._ "

Mr Shawn blinked tiredly and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, there's a slight problem."

I clenched my jaw and leaned forward myself.

"Be kind and don't tell me."

That took him aback. He probably wasn't used to a tone like this.

"I haven't even said anything yet."

"We wouldn't talk about my talents if you, sir, weren't about to offer a job. _I have to decline._ I'm **not** an agent."

I noticed the horror on their faces but couldn't put a finger on why they reacted this way. The woman spoke again.

"We have a situation here in London. As I've read, you hate long briefings, so I'll keep it short and simple. Most of us here received death threats. We also know about a few hitmans were hired by someone to kill some of us.” I tensed slightly. So it was true… what Sherlock told me. Mycroft truly was in danger… “A name, which we haven't heard in years, is spoken of again. His group needs to be dealt with and information must be collected about what is he up to."

Silence fell for a long, long time. I took a deep breath. _So **tempting**._ I tried to make myself believe it wasn’t the fact that Mycroft was in danger that made me think about accepting the offer. I held the woman's gaze before I cleared my throat.

"How many men in said group?"

"Fourteen. Trained. Prepared."

I let out a sigh. It wouldn’t be like as it was at Hill’s home. I was barely prepared there and the guards were simple thugs without armour. But now… I could access anything I wanted to, I’d get a bulletproof vest amoung other awesome gadgets… while the enemy would be better prepared as well.

It was still risky to go into a place like that alone and I knew what was at cost.

"I'm not working in groups", I insisted.

"We heard that."

"But I need a coordinator."

"So you'll accept?"

I felt the mood change in the room. They were getting hopeful. I thought I was nuts.

"On two conditions." They waited. "One: I'm not working unless my injuries are completely healed. Should take two to four weeks."

"Reasonable", the woman nodded.

I looked at Mycroft on my left and he immediately looked back at me. I saw he knew what my other condition was – the little sparks in his eyes, the way his lips twitched just slightly –, but I wasn't able to figure out what he thought about it.

"Two: I want my coordinator to be Mycroft Holmes." As I looked back at the woman, I saw she was little shocked. Before she could ask any questions about my demand, I started to explain. "Trust doesn't come easily and he got me out alive once from a delicate situation already. I'm not putting my life into someone's hands I don't know."

„That is also reasonable”, said the white haired man and I looked at him, but he already was making eye contact with Mycroft, who nodded.

„I was expecting this, and I agree to the terms.”

„ _Fantastic_ ”, another man said and he smiled faintly.

The mood in the room changed again, it became lighter. I hoped they didn’t forget my first condition. I still wasn’t able to move properly and I wouldn’t jump into anything like this unless I was sure I could handle anything thrown at me.

„There’s also a matter of gratitude we’d like to express for what you’ve done back there.”

My face distorted with **_agony._** _Please, **don’t.**_ Mycroft shifted slightly next to me and when I glanced at him for a moment I saw he was **_entertained._** _He **knew.**_

„There’s no need to be grateful for. I only did what needed to be done.”

„And managed to save all of us and disabled a bomb strong enough to destroy everything we ever stood for.”

„I’m not a hero, Mr Shawn.”

He smiled at me.

„Give yourself some credit”, he replied gently, „as we know, you’d like to stay hidden, but that doesn’t stop us from boosting your credit card a little.”

„I never cared about money, sir.”

„Well, then you’ll never have to worry about it again, I presume. It’s already done and can not be reversed. Consider it a gift.”

I had a slight, very, _very_ **slight** feeling Mycroft had to do something with this.

„I, uh… thank you.”

_I guess._

Later when we finally were free and walked back to Mycroft’s office, I couldn’t help but notice the smirk he had on. Really, he probably enjoyed my confusion over there and let me mumble all sorts of silly things… he didn’t interrupt, he just observed. Mycroft literally threw me in the deep water and watched me struggle.

I couldn’t decide if I was angry at him or not.

„I guess it’s lunch time”, he checked the time on his pocket watch before he stopped at his office’s door, slipping the little thing back in his waistcoat’s pocket. Then he looked down at me. „Will it be Cordon Bleu again?”

 _How the **f–**?!_ I closed my eyes momentarily.

„You really could’ve told them I never needed money.”

It was strange. After remembering back how he pulled me out of near death, the way I thought of him slightly changed once more. Right, I tried to protect him back there too, but it wasn’t me who had to bring _him_ back to London _in pieces_. I wondered again what were his motives. Why did he tell these people I was trustworthy enough to get that information they needed?

And there it was again. **_Trust._** Was it mutual?

„Why did you accept it?” He asked instead as he looked deeper in my eyes and narrowed his just slightly. „You said no at first. But you changed your mind.”

I _could_ lie. He’d know, but wouldn’t know the truth. I _could_ tell him something trivial, like _I hate mean people_ – which was true, kind of… and _no,_ because I still worked for the biggest asshole in the entire universe –, but instead, I shrugged with a sigh.

„The hitman.”

He blinked once before his eyes gave away he was surprised and he also probably noticed I spoke only about one individual hitman.

„Sherlock.” He muttered and I smiled faintly because damn he was fast.

„What do you think, why didn’t I quit after I told you I would? I’m not here because you threatened me to write it in my file.”

I turned and started to walk away. I didn’t want to see what my words did to him. He wouldn’t care about sentiment. He wouldn’t appreciate it. So I gave him the opportunity to forget it.

„Wait a moment”, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I looked up in his eyes and he glared at me in disbelief. „You stayed because of…?”

 ** _Me_** , I read the rest out of his expression. Literally, _yes._ I did. Damn it, it sounded like a confession. And I was also _so **stupid**_.

„You stayed, too, back then”, I shrugged. „It’s payback time.”

„You don’t owe me anything.”

„Wrong. I owe you my life.”

 **SHOCK.** On Mycroft’s face. There was _shock_. It would’ve entertained me to no end if I never was moved upon seeing it. Why was he so… _unprepared_ to this? Has no one ever thanked him for the things he’d done for people? I wondered for a moment. Even **_I_** didn’t thank him, now that I think of it.

„Which makes me remember, I never thanked you for bringing me back here and making sure I stayed alive.”

He blinked rapidly a few times before he let my arm go and cleared his throat.

„You forget it was also me who put you in danger in the first place.” His tone changed, he sounded more like a scolding teacher.

„It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it”, I smiled up at him. Mycroft looked even more displeased with my reply. „So, can I have my break now?”

„Yes”, he sighed and watched me turn and leave for the lift. I looked back at him and he still stood there, watching me. „Keep _safe_.” He said quietly before he turned and opened his office to disappear in it.

As I took the lift downstairs I checked my credit card’s balance on my phone and I nearly fainted there. Mr Shawn wasn’t joking. I wouldn’t have financial problems for like… ten years. When I walked to the café, I was smiling like an idiot.

„You’re in a good mood today”, I heard a familiar voice from behind me and I beamed a smile at Sherrinford.

„Yes, it’s a good day”, he walked behind me as I stopped in the queue at the restaurant where I always buy my food. As elegant as he was, he almost got lost in the other uniformed men around us, but still, he had… that strange aura I couldn’t put a finger on. Sherrinford smiled back at me, his blue eyes wandering on my face before they settled back on my eyes. „Isn’t yours good, too?”

„Busy”, he said quietly, still with that mysterious smile. „And the hours seemed to stretch into weeks. I’ve been waiting for the lunch break and it felt like it’d never approach.”

I had a feeling he wasn’t waiting for it because he was hungry and it did all sorts of things to me. He was charming and he reminded me of Sherlock so much but I couldn’t say why.

„Well, it’s here now.”

„Yes. Fortunately.” He bowed his head. „I also wanted to let you know that to others, please do not mention my full surname. Just say Ford instead.”

„Why?”

„Because people tend to get shocked by a name like that.” I nodded, understanding. „So, what are you having?”

„Cordon Bleu is fine for me. The cheese is really good in it”, I replied. „And you?”

„I’ll try that, then. I usually eat, but most of the time, I have no idea what.”

„Because you’re always in a hurry?”

„Rather in thought.”

I had a strange, itching feeling that there was something about this man which made me uneasy, but I couldn’t put a finger on what. What did Sherlock tell me once? **_Observe._** Let’s observe. He didn’t look much older than me, but when he smiled wrinkles spread around his eyes and lips, meaning he usually smiled a lot. His teeth are white and perfect, no stubble, he clearly cared about appearances. His suit was also perfect and fine, probably expensive like Mycroft’s. Not exactly what a man hidden away underground would wear. I looked back in his eyes again and I realised his lips parted slightly as I examined his appearance.

„What did you deduce?” He questioned and I heard in his voice that he was entertained by my curious glances.

„I’m not good at it”, I smiled and shrugged. „But I have a friend and an acquaintance who’s perfect at deduction.”

„Really?” He cocked an amused brow. „Who are they?”

„If I told you, I’d have to kill you”, I joked.

„I really would like to know”, he insisted as I ordered myself food.

„One of them is Sherlock Holmes.”

As I looked at him, I saw he stared this time, intently, and his smile disappeared – but it came back immediately when I looked at him.

„Oh, so that’s why you seemed so familiar to me”, he mumbled, „you were in the newspapers.”

I rolled my eyes. God, please, no.

„I’m not his girlfriend or whatever they wrote in there. He’s just a friend.”

„I see”, he said then, ordering the same for himself too. We found a table and sat, started to eat and stayed silent for a few minutes. I watched the people; most of them stared at me just until I looked at them and I knew they all thought the same thing. _This ordinary, little woman, Sherlock Holmes’s girlfriend…_ with a sigh, I stabbed a couple chips and ate them. „And who’s the other one?”

„My boss”, I shrugged.

„Mycroft Holmes, right?” He questioned and I stared up at him. Sherrinford smiled apologetically. „Sorry. I did my research.”

„Ah well. Nothing stays hidden here.”

„Aye, that’s quite right.” We ate in silence for a while. „So… you’re, _uh…_ how should I put this…” I looked up at him with a cocked brow. His pupils’ dilated when he looked in my eyes again. „You’re free, aren’t you?”

I felt the blush rising in my cheeks. Really? Seriously? Like… was it all he cared about? If I had a boyfriend? I nearly laughed about it, but then I found myself rather befuddled. Here was this handsome man, women turned after him if he walked somewhere and… he was interested in me?

It was almost too good to be true.

I thought about the mission ahead of me which could end very badly if I wasn’t careful enough. What if… I gave a chance to this man and I wouldn’t come back afterwards? It wouldn’t be fair.

„I’m… taking a break”, I sighed, „the last relationship of mine didn’t end well.”

He didn’t look like he was sad about it, on the contrary.

„I understand.” He nodded. „But do tell me if you’re… interested in starting another relationship.”

I couldn’t hold back my smile and the redness in my face as I stared at my food again.

„Alright, I think I will.”

After I ate my lunch I got myself a latte and as I was stirring it, I noticed Sherrinford never looked anywhere else but my face. I thought he found me rather attractive, I couldn’t find any other reason why someone would look at me like that. I didn’t find it annoying or creepy, I just was slightly confused. Wasn’t used to it. I was around a man too much who saw everything about me within a second and also treated me like a lower being than him… this doesn’t help anyone’s confidence.

„And how’s work?” He asked then, just to spark a conversation and I shrugged.

„Depends on the mood of my boss.”

„Really? Is he bad?”

„Sometimes.”

I didn’t want to complain. Especially because Mycroft seemed decent with me, at the moment. I thought it was just a matter of time before he slips back into his asshole mode. I wasn’t looking forward to it, to be honest.

„I’m glad my boss doesn’t work here”, Sherrinford sighed, leaning back in his seat. He glanced around at other people. „In this building, anyway.”

„Lucky.”

„You can’t even imagine”, he grinned now, „He only comes every few days to check up on me. Quite peaceful down there.”

„Well… my job requires legwork. And the ability to take insults well.” He cocked his brows and I checked the time on my phone. „Which reminds me, I have to go.”

He stood before I did and smiled down at me. He was so damn tall. Definitely just as tall as Mycroft.

„It’s been a pleasure, Elisabeth”, he said, „can I ask you to eat lunch with me on Monday, too?”

I beamed a smile at Sherrinford.

„Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

When I bid him goodbye and walked towards the lift, I noticed the camera up in the corner and I thought to myself: _I hope you ate your lunch and didn’t spy on me._

_Well._

**I was wrong.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else ships Liz and Mike apart from me? *throws confetti around*  
> Ahhh they're so oblivious. The little sweethearts.  
> Would they even _realise_ before it's... *dun dun duUUN!* **TOO LATE?!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hi, I'm not dating Sherlock Holmes.**

When I told Mycroft I came back, he didn't look at me just said 'fine' in a rather annoyed tone. So I went to my desk and sat, sorting his e-mails again.

Then, after an hour, he summoned me.

"Yes, sir?"

I was still in a rather good mood. Even though it has been a long one, it still was very good. Mycroft looked up from his laptop. His eyes seemed... dark.

"During lunch. Who were you with?"

My expression darkened as well. So. He kept his eyes on me again. And he was meddling in my affairs. **_Again._**

"A friend of mine."

"A _friend_." The way he echoed the word I used pissed me off. "I haven't seen him around you yet." _Since **when** did he follow **every** step of mine?!_ "What's his name?"

I pressed my lips together.

"This is ridiculous!" I groaned.

" ** _His name!_** " He barked back in a commanding tone but I wasn't afraid of him, not now.

"Why don't you find it out yourself?! You're the one who's very good at spying after people!"

Now I felt the fear awaken at the pit of my gut. If looks could kill, I'd be so dead.

"Elisabeth", he uttered my name and it sounded like a threat but I steeled myself; that's it, I'll tell him!

"No, none of your business who do I spend my free time with."

"Given the current situation it's vital I know who connects with you." Again, this explanation sounded like he just tried to think of something to mess with me. "People here know you work for me and through you they could get to me..."

"And do you think I'd let them do anything to you?" It was me this time who raised the volume. "Do you think I'd let you get hurt?!"

He stared at me, stern.

"Do you trust him?"

I wasn't anticipating this question. _Do I trust Sherrinford?_ Well... _trust_ would be a bit early. But I was sure he was harmless. At least, he wouldn't try and kill Mycroft ~~(he might kill me with flirting, though, but Mycroft didn’t need to know about that)~~. I had that strange feeling about him, but that had nothing to do with killer motives. ~~I hoped.~~

"He's not a threat." I strongly reassured him. "And even if he was, you know I'd break his neck before he got to you."

He narrowed his eyes slightly and stayed silent for a few seconds before he nodded.

"Alright. I trust your instincts." He looked at his laptop. "You can go back to your work."

"Right away, sir", I nodded, leaving his office.

**_I trust your instincts._ **

I was still smiling to myself an hour later because of this sentence.

Friday was over. On the way home I went in the supermarket nearby my home to buy some stuff for my fridge. I decided I’d boost my life a little, given the fact I had way too much money now. I could even quit my job at this point. They paid me too well.

After I arrived home, I threw my clothes right in the washing machine and had a long, hot shower while I kept thinking about what happened all day. Hell, it’s been a rollercoaster with Sherlock, Mycroft and… him. I frowned slightly. Now, that I think of it, I knew why Sherrinford reminded me of Sherlock so much. Their eyes… looked almost the same. The colour and the way both of them looked at me… it was weird. I wasn’t sure Sherlock didn’t have any more brothers or sisters, but would it be wise to ask him? No… Sherrinford was a Holton, not Holmes. I wondered on and on as I got out of the shower, started my washing machine and wrapped a towel around my body. I checked my side; it was still black and blue. I put on new gauze on my other injuries before I danced out to the kitchen to pack out all the stuff I bought.

I picked up my personal phone and started up music. _Loud Like Love…_ I smiled and sang as I danced around and started to prepare myself a healthier meal than Cordon Bleu or croissant… or even chinese. As I washed the various veggies I thought of Sherrinford again. What should I do about him? Sure, he was handsome and I wouldn’t mind letting him in my bed – or I would climb in his, whichever he wanted –, but it’d be still too soon after Sherlock and the mission… the mission had to be dealt with first. Of course it was dangerous and risky, but that was exactly what I liked about it. Then, somehow, Mycroft crept in my thoughts again.

_Can you imagine a love that is so proud, it never has to question why or how…_

God that dream I had with him… that was so inappropriate. I became as red as the tomato I just sliced up when I thought of it. But really… the way he looked at me in it. Well, I’d never have it in real life. He was too cold and detached, I wouldn’t dare to even try to approach him in that way. He’d probably turn me down in the most humiliating way _Mycroftly_ possible. So I entertained myself a little with the pictures in my head and remembered what I read before about dreams; indeed, this was something I unconsciously wanted.

As I threw the veggies in the pan and sprinkled them with some olive oil, I snorted to myself. _Yes._ I **_still_** wanted him… but he was unreachable. I wished I had the courage to at least ask, or give him hints. But I wouldn’t dare. It’d be so awkward if I tried something and he wouldn’t reciprocate. It’s so typical… I could have literally anyone around and I wanted the only one who never looked at me like that.

I stuffed my face with fried chicken and veggies then I fed Ninnie with a much better quality food than I usually bought. I smiled as I saw how much more she liked this food. I let her to it and climbed up in my bed and switched on my laptop. As I’ve signed in my social networks, I saw I had a few new messages from people – and a lot of unknown people. I frowned. After five minutes I figured out all of them were interested if I really was dating Sherlock.

_Ah, **people**._

I wrote a ’ **Hi, I'm not dating Sherlock Holmes.** ’ message and pasted it to each and every one who asked me about it. Why was it such a sensation? As I rolled my eyes and signed in to my online messenger, I saw I had two new requests. With a cocked brow, I saw Sherrinford’s name – and Mycroft’s.

 _How the Hell did they figure **this** out?!_ How could they find me when I had the name Liz 10 after a fictional character here?! About that, this fictional character had the perfect line in television history (in my opinion, anyway, and she also was named Elizabeth – sadly with z, not s, like me, maybe I should change it?): _’I am the bloody queen, mate. Basically, I rule.’_

I smirked to myself as I accepted their requests. Sherrinford immediately popped up… and made me blush instantly.

**Good evening, beautiful. How was the rest of the day?**

_Good evening. It was alright, I’m a bit tired. And yours?_

**Boring. So, you’re in bed now?**

Well, that escalated rather quickly. Ninnie jumped up next to me and started to clean herself.

_Yes, had shower, then dinner, now nestled in comfortably with my cat._

**Monday is so far away and I’ll miss you so much. Don’t you want to meet tomorrow or on Sunday?**

_Sure, why not. Any ideas?_

**We could meet tomorrow morning and have breakfast somewhere? Maybe at Table Café?**

_That sounds perfect. I haven’t been there yet, I’m curious. Where should we meet?_

**Hmmm… Southwark, around 8?**

_Yes! Alright, I’ll be there!_

I wanted to sleep in a little but seeing Sherrinford so soon made me want to get up right now and run around London despite I was dead tired.

**I have to go now. See you tomorrow, then! Good night!**

_Can’t wait! Good night to you too!_

He signed off a little after and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. I may have had feelings for Mycroft, but I really did try my best to move on to someone else. I had to give up on him, I knew. If I kept feeding myself with the thought that we… had a future… I might just grow old and die alone. I certainly didn’t want that. But! I had a date! Wait, was this a date?

Aw yes, I had a date!

I thought of the last time I had a proper date – before Sherlock. He really just popped in my life and popped right out of it, we never had the time to even schedule something. I made myself feel ashamed. _Scott._ Scott was missing. Though, what I did to him, it shouldn’t be a surprise. And then… we made it on the covers with Sherlock on the newspapers and he probably saw it… he must think what everyone else thinks.

God that was awkward. I wished I could explain it to him.

With a sigh, I was about to sign out when a new window popped up; Mycroft’s.

**Good evening.**

I blinked tiredly as I wrote my reply.

_Good evening, sir._

**I have a document you’ll have to read out and record for me. Send the record to me tomorrow.**

And he attached a file which, as it turned out, was **ten pages long.** I groaned. _Why the f–, he **could** read!_ Why must I do this? Did he want me to work during the weekends, too? Alright… only this once…

_Of course, sir. I’ll take care of it._

**I’m counting on you. Good night, Elisabeth.**

_Good night, sir._

And with that, he signed out. I stared at the document; it wasn’t anything very important, not to me. I picked up my business phone and started a recording. After that, I started to read out the file loud.

It didn’t take me too long, but I was very tired by the time I was finished. He wrote to send it to him tomorrow, so I’ll do just that. I switched off my things and set an alarm for 7 – wouldn’t want to be late from that date with Sherrinford! –, and hid under the duvet with a content sigh.

The next morning I woke up from the best sleep I’ve had in the past days I’ve been conscious. I got up quickly and had another shower and gauze change, deciding this time I’d get rid of the bun and let my hair down. I put on the usual make up, then rushed to my wardrobe to pick out something less formal than what I wore in the office. So I went with a band T-shirt, a black hoodie, deep dark blue jeans and boots. Ah, this was so much more comfortable. I put on my coat and left the house with both of my phones and wallet in another handbag of mine. I got off the Tube at Southwark and wandered a little when I realised he never mentioned where we would meet. Down here, or up above? I was just about to search for my phone when I remembered we didn’t exchange numbers. Frick. How could I forget this?

I was about to panic slightly when he spoke from behind me.

„Good morning, Elisabeth.”

Startled, I put my hand over my chest and looked back at him with a little jump.

„Oh my God, you scared me!” I whined playfully. It was a lie. And he knew I knew he knew. „Good morning! I thought I wouldn’t find you here…”

„We came with the same train. I spotted you, but you didn’t look my way. You seemed rather… _detached._ ”

 _Tends to happen if I think about Mycroft._ Someone would think I was straight **_depressed_** when I thought about him… but Sherrinford never needed to know about this.

„I was just lost in thought”, I smiled up at him and he immediately mirrored it. I kinda melted from how hot he was. Instead of putting on some less formal clothes, he kept himself to suits and gosh he was handsome. „I had a lot going on yesterday that still needs time to settle. Anyway, we can go if you like.”

„Sure”, he nodded and we started to walk to the exit. He led me through small streets and I admired the view. Clearly, I barely had any freetime to wander in the city. „You seem like you don’t really go out.”

„I don’t really have the energy. Usually I buy food in the nearest shop, go home and sleep”, I shrugged. „But when I have the chance to go outside during the day, I like to see the sights.”

„Maybe I could take you after breakfast, to look around?” He offered instantly.

„That’s a very good idea”, I nodded again, smiling at him.

„I used to walk around a lot.” He looked up ahead of us and I admired the way he looked like now. I swallowed. Right. I was one lucky girl. _Too bad he wasn’t M…_ „I enjoy watching people, having their ordinary little lives. I write stories about them.”

„Really?”

„Yes”, he glanced down at me and smiled, „but only my desk’s drawer can read them.”

„Oh, too bad.”

„I write about work, too”, he mentioned as he watched the street before us and turned at the next corner.

„Well, I’m sure that’s not as exciting as the other stories. I can’t really think of what exciting could happen in that dark workplace of yours.”

Our eyes met yet again. Something peculiar was in his expression.

„I only started to write about it since yesterday.” He said in that velvet tone of his and he smiled down at me gently. „I met someone very interesting there.”

„Who could that be”, I wondered with a cocked brow and laughed. He laughed with me. „I’m not that interesting, really.”

„And that’s where you’re wrong, Elisabeth.”

„So, you’re writing about me?” I turned the topic back.

„Yes. The mysterious woman in the office…”

I laughed again.

„Mysterious…!”

„Don’t laugh, it’s serious.” We stopped before the Table Café. Fortunately, we walked slow, so it was already open when we got there. He opened the door for me and I thanked him. When we were inside, we took off our coats and he told a waitress he reserved a table for his name. When we were led to our table we sat. That was when he continued our talk. „There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

„I’m a mere secretary”, I picked up the menu and browsed through it. „There’s nothing more to see than that.”

„Hmm… would you like to know what I see?” He asked, and the way he spoke sent a shiver down my spine.

I looked up at him and he looked at me that intently as he did back in our workplace. There it was again. That weird feeling in my gut. I experienced this observing stare more than I liked to experience… from Monday to Friday. Almost every hour of my life.

„Sure, why not?” I took another look at the menu.

„In my story, you’re a special agent.” I was glad I hid behind the menu because at this, I went as pale as the snow. „One who doesn’t like to be alone, loves someone who never returns it… one who dreams of getting into trouble only to fight herself through it. One who knows how to handle a gun and many other firearms. One, who’s here, despite the fact she’s been injured severely not too long ago and still has two broken ribs from which she’s in constant pain. Clearly, she should rather be in a hospital.”

I swallowed, then lowered my menu and looked Sherrinford dead in the eye.

„That’s a very bold story for a secretary like me.”

He shrugged and smiled gently.

„It has everything a good story needs, right? Love, danger… thrill.”

I took a look at my menu again.

„And where does the secretary find the love she’s looking for if the one she wants never returns it?”

„That’s where our main hero comes in.”

I looked at him but he still browsed the menu with a smirk on his face. We ordered our food and stayed in silence for a few minutes. _How the fuck did he know? It **can’t** be._ It couldn’t be. **This was _not_ possible.** The alarm rang in my head. I needed to tell Mycroft. This man made contact with me, yes, he worked in the building and he knew too much about me. This couldn’t be a coincidence. If he knew this much about me, it wouldn’t be long…

„Of course, this is just a story”, he sighed and shrugged, „and I read a lot about you in the papers. It really seemed to me that you liked Sherlock. A journalist’s idea was that you were an agent.” He pulled a paper out of his coat’s pocket and showed it to me. I read the article; it was just speculation really, but the one who wrote thought I couldn’t be an ordinary woman who caught Sherlock’s attention. „And the broken ribs… I asked about you in the hospital.”

Was I wrong? He didn’t deduce everything about me right here, right now? I was so confused. Now… Sherrinford was harmless as I promised Mycroft he was, or… or not? I looked up at him again with an expression that I couldn’t decide to believe what he said.

„And how do you know I don’t like to be alone?” I questioned and he chuckled to himself.

„You wouldn’t be here with me if you did.”

And that, as a matter of fact, was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. Ohhh, boy. The fun I'll have. *evil cackle*


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I would dare to do a lot of things to you, Elisabeth. – M**

The most disturbing was that I couldn't decide where did Sherrinford stand. I decided earlier he wasn't a threat; but when he sat in his shirt and waistcoat in front of me, I noticed he was rather, hmm, _well-built._ I'd have problems if it came to a fight. Any sort of fight.

Let’s hope he’d rather wrestle in the sheets than to kill me for real…

"Are you still hungry?" He asked when my pancakes with maple syrup arrived. I looked up at him and his expression reminded me of Mycroft when I literally swallowed the entire menu on his private plane. Was I under pressure now? _Maybe._ I shrugged. "Well, enjoy it then."

He ate the same size of plate as me, scrambled eggs and bacon and toasts. The food was great. The company... _dangerous._ He was too handsome and nice. According to Sherlock, I liked danger. Maybe that's why I ended up in the company of dangerous men. Well... it wasn't a comforting thought. Sherrinford kept looking at my pancakes until he picked up his unused fork and stole a bite. I giggled.

"You could've asked me to give some to you", I teased and he cocked a brow.

"Then give me some." I giggled again as I fed him. "Does it taste better if it's from me?"

"A thousand times better", he mumbled after he swallowed the bite and I felt I blushed. As I continued eating, he leaned forward to be closer to me. "How come, and forgive me for being so nosy, that Sherlock left you?"

"It turned out he had a need of a friend... oh no, not in that sense!" I laughed at Sherrinford's expression. "Actually, he... I shouldn't tell you this..."

"You can trust me", he smiled, "I'll take it to the grave."

"He just used me to get to a serial killer."

This answer seemingly shocked him a little. I shrugged.

"He found him. So he wanted to end it. And it's fine."

"He put you in danger?"

"Ah, no, not at all." _That asshole wasn't a threat **to me**._ "Sherlock just lured him out."

"This doesn't sound nice either."

"We're friends, now. So it's okay. I could use more friends as I have none…"

"How come someone like you doesn't have many friends? I mean, you're good company..."

"I don't really have time for anything", I shrugged again.

And I'd get them into trouble, certainly. Since my cousin died, I wasn't overly fond of friendships. ‘Friends’ could betray me at any time. Love interests less so. If someone loved me there was less chance they'd try to kill me. Of course, they could've been used to lure me out, but that was unlikely. I kept my _interests_ well hidden.

But then, _of course,_ there always would be _someone_ who'd know about it...

I caught myself thinking of Mycroft again. He was my boss, yes. I wasn't entirely sure I _loved_ him, but I trusted him enough to put my life in his hands. And the last time we talked... it seemed this was mutual. What they used to say? All relationships are built on mutual trust?

But where were we with Mycroft? _Boss-secretary?_ No, something more than that. _Friendship?_ Certainly not. I couldn't put him in any category.

At least this wasn't a problem with Sherrinford. It was pretty obvious where he'd like to put me. Definitely not in the _'friend'_ box. I finished eating and leaned back with a sigh.

"You really care a lot about your job", he mentioned.

"I can't squeeze in anything else because my boss always makes me do things. Which reminds me..."

I picked out my business phone from my bag to send the record to Mycroft. While the file got attached, I wrote a message.

**Good morning, sir!**

**Here's the file you requested.**

**Have a nice day,**

**E. Lone**

Wasn't _'have a nice day'_ a bit too much? _Ah well. Screw it. Who cares._ I sent it to him and threw the phone back in my bag. Sherrinford kept his eyes on me.

"Will you let me pay for the food?" I asked, and he smirked.

"Absolutely not."

"Aw come on. I ate twice as much as you. Just this once!"

He thought for a second.

"Hmm, alright, fine. Just this once."

I beamed a smile at him and he seemed he was pleased with himself.

"If in the future you smile at me like that, I probably would let you do anything you wanted."

"Careful. Don't put weapons against you in my hand", I warned him playfully as we got our clothes back on and left the café. "So. Where should we go now?"

"Hmm, let's check out the Big Ben? We could get on the Eye as well on the way there."

So, we did, while we chat a lot. Sherrinford was pleasant company and I liked to listen to his voice. It was so calming. He'd entertain me with historical stories amoung other facts about different buildings. I figured it out quick he was much more intelligent than me. Of course, this made him only more desirable and made me feel awkward for barely knowing or remembering anything about the city I lived in.

 _Ah well._ I'd rather remember well how to disarm or kill a man than to _what_ was built _when_ and by _who_. But I still had fun and that was what mattered.

Around 11, my business phone started to ring. We just got off the Eye and walked to the bridge to the Big Ben when I apologised to Sherrinford and picked it up.

"Good day, sir, what can help you with?" I greeted Mycroft in a rather good mood.

"What do you think you're doing out there?" Came the annoyed reply.

I stepped a few meters away from Sherrinford and turned my back to him as I felt the anger rise in my chest. Again, this wasn't the boss-secretary relationship, it seemed more, but I had no idea what it was. Why would a boss call his secretary on her day off? For what reason, really?

"It's Saturday, and my free time. And as I've said, I do what I want."

"You're with _him_."

"Oh my God, _really??_ " I nearly screamed. "That's what you do on Saturday? **_Spy after me?!_** "

"I have to make sure you're not doing anything foolish. Sentiment drives people to do the unthinkable."

_What the **fuck** was wrong with **this** man?!_

"Sentiment? _Sentiment?!_ What do you want from me? Should I stop feeling and having fun with other people just because I'm your secretary?"

There was a moment of silence before I realised it wasn't just me who got angry.

" **Stop** meeting him and it's **_final!_** Go home. **Now!** "

Suddenly, it became as bright as day. **Jealous.** _Of course._ He was fucking jealous I spent time with another man. I wasn't entirely sure how I should feel about this. Here he was telling me anecdotes about _sentiment_ and it was him who couldn't fucking keep his cool.

It was ridiculous. I should tell him he was **_ridiculous_**. There I was every fucking day sighing to myself behind my desk how perfect he was in every sense but he made no moves to show he even noticed it — when I was certain he did. He never, **_ever_** **once** asked me out or even hinted at that he wanted something more from me. Sure we played we were married for a few hours but that was **_play_**. And despite he never gave me any sign he wanted me, now he expects me not to meet other men? I mean, _why the fuck shouldn't I?_ I **wasn't** _his property!_ He **didn't** _own me!_ I was an independent woman who did what she wanted!

And if he couldn't put it into words he wanted me in his life more than a secretary, then _screw him!_ I didn't owe him anything. I've had enough.

"Do you know what I think, _sir?_ " I replied way too calmly and my expression smoothed out. " ** _Grow. Up_**."

Then I hung up and switched off my phone.

"Sorry about that", I walked back to Sherrinford as I threw my phone in my bag.

As we continued walking as he started to talk again and I found myself feeling like I was fleeting. I finally did it. Maybe that’d let him know what he did was childish. I snaked my left hand around Sherrinford’s right arm and he looked at me surprised. I smiled at him as we continued walking.

I had no idea what would Mycroft have in store for me for what I’ve told him, and I was slightly afraid of it, to be honest. He never played nice when he was angry…

We went and checked out the Big Ben as well, then we started to wander around in the little streets, finding a nice little restaurant at a hidden spot. We decided we’d have lunch and Sherrinford insisted that this time, he’d pay. So, I chose not to eat myself through the menu. I could’ve, with all the stress Mycroft put on me.

Half an hour later I still found myself being afraid of the consequences, so I picked out my business phone from my bag and turned it back on while Sherrinford visited the restroom. The phone only showed one missed call from him right after I hung up and an unread message. I started to chew on my lip as I opened it.

**The consequences you’re about to face won’t be pleasant at all. I’d suggest call me as soon as you receive this, or you’ll only make it worse for yourself. – M**

Fear gripped my gut. But there was something else as well. _Excitement._ Oh my God, Sherlock was right, I really did search for danger. I got my kicks from it. I continued chewing my lip as I wrote a reply to him.

_How about you knocking off this creepy spy thing instead?_

I was so in trouble… _sooo_ in trouble. And I **_loved it._** I was afraid of him, yes, but God if I knew it’d give me these goosebumps across my back and arms as I read his message again, I would’ve done this **_ages ago_**. I remembered my dream and I instantly let out a quiet whine.

No, I shouldn’t do this. **_Frick!!_** I shouldn’t do this at all. I was here with Sherrinford, we had a bloody date and I keep thinking of Mycroft, this is so unfair! This was what Mycroft wanted, to ruin everything nice I finally had.

Mycroft called me and I immediately rejected it. I didn’t want him to yell at me, that’d ruin the excitement. So I waited patiently because I knew he wouldn’t try calling me again if he never knew I’d pick it up. And his next message came, very fast.

**Do you realise I have the authority to do anything I want? I could send a car to pick you up and bring you wherever I wanted, and I could have you spend the rest of the weekend with me. – M**

The restaurant suddenly felt hot around me. I nearly started to wheeze as I got rid of my hoodie. The rest of the _weekend._ _Oh God._ How would that go? He’d have me locked up in his house? Would he give me work to keep me occupied? I knew I should’ve stopped it right there and then, but I couldn’t help myself. He was teasing me, and I’d tease him back. _Serves him right._ He’ll know what it’s like to taste his own medicine.

_You wouldn’t dare._

As I’ve waited for his reply, I stared outside and saw a happy couple kissing right on the other side of the street. Why can’t I have _that?_ A normal relationship? I wanted to have a man who’d hold me in his arms and tell me sweet nothings, who’d buy me latte and kiss me whenever he felt like it. Instead, I get turned on by a _creeper_. Because that was Mycroft was. I sighed.

**I would dare to do a lot of things to you, Elisabeth. – M**

_OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD._

This was unfair. So damned unfair. This was _beyond_ unfair. This manipulating, selfish bastard! He was toying with me!

**_And I loved it._ **

_You’re all talk, as always. I don’t believe a word you say, „sir”._

 Sherrinford came back – and I wished he would’ve stayed in the restroom for… oh my, I was a horrible being. I quickly put my phone in my jeans’ pocket and tried to concentrate on him, but I had severe difficulties there. Especially when my phone started to buzz twice again, letting me know I had a new message. I **had to** read it. _Oh my God, the **tension was killing me**._

„Are you alright?” Sherrinford asked with a surprised expression. „Your face is rather… red.”

„Yes, I just took off my hoodie, it’s a little hot in here, don’t you think?”

The way he looked at me… I knew he knew I lied. But I just can’t tell. This, really, should stay private. There was another buzz-buzz. I cleared my throat and stood up.

„I’ll be back in a few”, I promised Sherrinford and went to the restroom myself.

I sat on one of the toilets after I put the lid down and checked the messages he sent.

**You’ll find yourself in a rather delicate situation the next time we meet. I do not appreciate impudence. Are you sure you want to continue your little games? – M**

**If you’re not heading home in the next hour, I’ll make sure you’ll be carried there. Like the cheeky little girl you are. – M**

My jaw dropped. This sounded like the Mycroft I had in my dream, not the _real_ one. Seriously, what happened to him? Could it be he expressed himself more freely via text? My throat and lips went dry as I called him. That was too much for me. I had to hear his voice. He picked up rather quickly.

„So, your senses came back after all?” He cooed and I closed my eyes. It felt like he stroked me with his words. It felt way too good. „Have you forgotten who you are and who am I?”

„I’m not going home just because you tell me to.”

„You _will_ , Elisabeth”, he almost whispered and it sent a shiver down my spine.

„We just ordered lunch.”

„You can have lunch at home. _Alone._ ”

„Mycroft, **_please!_** ” I whined and I leaned back, pushing my head against the wall. „You’re unbelievable. Let me have my day off as ** _I_** want it!”

„No.”

„Why not?”

He went silent. I finally asked the right question he couldn’t answer to.

„Have that lunch then go home”, he said in the end, „I’ll keep my eye on you, don’t forget that.”

He hung up. I stared at my phone in disbelief. Then I got up and left the restroom. As I went back to Sherrinford he smiled up at me, handing a menu to me. I took it and decided I’d eat Cordon Bleu.

**_Will it be Cordon Bleu again?_ **

„Shut up”, I muttered to Mycroft’s voice in my head.

„I didn’t say anything”, Sherrinford mumbled with a little laugh.

„Oh, I’m so sorry, I said it out loud…” I sighed and put the menu down as I pinched the bridge of my nose. _I have to get him out of my head._ „Sometimes my thoughts are getting the best of me.”

„I know the feeling”, Sherrinford kept browsing the menu with a half smile. We ordered food and kept looking at each other. I sighed to myself again and swallowed my shame. Here was this gorgeous man and I kept thinking of another. Not like I wanted to. Everything was fine until he started to bombard me with messages. „What?” He asked as I kept staring at him, speechless.

„I’m thinking I don’t deserve you”, I replied and I felt even more horrible when my words got meaning in his head, because his expression immediately changed. I shook my head. „No, really… I’m a horrible person.”

„That’s not right”, he said gently and got a hold of my hands. His fingers were so warm and his skin was a little rough. It felt really good. It’s been ages since someone got a hold of my hands like this. He started to lace our fingers. „You deserve happiness. And I can give that to you.”

I closed my eyes. _No, this just made it worse for me._

„I deserve a lot of things, Sherrinford, but not happiness.”

„Why do you say such awful things?” He gently squeezed my fingers. „You’re beautiful and clever and kind… your smile one I’ve ever seen in my life… you make me wish I could spend every second of my life with you. If someone’s doesn’t deserve the other here, then it’s me. You’re too perfect for me.”

How funny this was? He continued to court me but he had absolutely no idea I killed people and got excited from being in dangerous situations. I imagined how life would be with him; he said he wrote a lot, so he probably spent a lot of time alone, or as he said, walking around the city.

 _Oh damn._ It’d be really boring.

But at least, I’d have someone who’d give me what I want. Just what I want. The whispered sweet nothings, the latte, the kisses. Would I be able to trade the thrill and tease of being with Mycroft for this? I wasn’t sure. For a moment I wondered how could I love **_out_** from Mycroft at some point. **_Any_** point. I wasn’t sure of that either.

„You’re really kind, Sherrinford”, I smiled at him gently, and wanted to say something else, but our food finally arrived and we had to let each other’s hands go.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Damn it,** this was my favourite blouse._

Of course, I could've just stayed with Sherrinford all day and ignore Mycroft's threats. But I knew better than to play with him and I didn't want to end up in a much more weird situation. I could imagine he'd send his biggest man to literally _pick me up_. It wouldn't be the most glorious end of a date to end up on a man's shoulder to be carried home.

So, I made amends and told Sherrinford I was tired and wished to go home. Which wasn't at all suspicious; we wandered around in the city for hours and I still had my injuries.

So, Sherrinford, ever the gentleman, decided he'd take me home personally. We got off the Tube and walked down my street, holding hands. We agreed this indeed was a great Saturday and we'd try and repeat it soon. The thought though made me wonder: would Mycroft try and sabotage another date of mine in the future?

I was very excited to find out and I was ashamed of myself for feeling this way.

"I have to repeat myself, I really had fun", he said to me quietly and I smiled up at him.

"Me too", I replied, though a smug voice in my head tried to make me believe I only enjoyed it because Mycroft put extra spice into it.

We stopped before the house's gate and I turned to look up at him. He was so damn tall and he looked so sweetly at me that I was sure _yes, he's going to kiss me right here, right now._ I knew this look. I wasn't sure I wanted it due to the fact there was a camera on the top of the building on the other side... and I was sure Mycroft kept his word and watched us. How would he react if Sherrinford kissed me now? If he truly was jealous... what would he do?

**_Sentiment drives people to do the unthinkable._ **

Did he think of himself there? And what was 'unthinkable' to him, really? Surely, Sherrinford wasn't in danger because he was with me... right? Or was he? I swallowed nervously and Sherrinford smiled at me. The poor man. I could see Mycroft unleashing Hell on him on Monday... would this really worth it?

Before I could do or say anything though, Sherrinford's lips were on mine. I smiled into the kiss and all of my thoughts vanished. I only felt the blessed bliss, because _yes_ , I missed this. Weird enough though, it reminded me of Sherlock; probably because Sherrinford was just as tall as him. I had to stand on my tiptoes and he had to lean down so much I was sure it was uncomfortable to him. But he never complained just explored my lips, kissing and biting them before our tongues met and my legs turned to jelly.

I was a little light headed when we broke the kiss and looked at each other. What was I thinking about before he so evilly attacked me? I couldn't even remember...

"See you soon, Elisabeth", he whispered to me and kissed my forehead. "I will keep in touch."

"Talk to you later", I mumbled and blinked confused when he let my fingers go. I didn't even realise he grabbed my hands. He smiled, once again, then turned and started to walk away. As I watched him I thought I was in the deepest shit humanly possible. "I'm so screwed", I mumbled to myself as I wandered inside.

After the shower and Ninnie petting I switched on my laptop and checked my phones. No messages or calls. I logged in my online messenger and nobody missed me there either. **_Great._** I traded great company for being alone. Just because my boss told me to.

The rest of the day was uneventful. I cooked and listened to music, then I watched a stupid comedy on my laptop and went to bed. Sunday was even more boring. I was chatting with Sherrinford online, but no sign of Mycroft. I couldn't believe I was _missing him_. So I thought and thought what should I do and decided I'd text him from my business phone.

_I'm not going anywhere today. I hope you're happy now._

I was teasing, really, this was just play. We were beyond the mere employer and employee situation anyway. For a long time, no reply came from him. Then he sent a three word text.

**I am busy.**

I cocked a brow. On _Sunday?_ Busy doing what? Checking CCTV records? Swirling his umbrella around? I had a feeling he sat at home and was seething silently because he saw Sherrinford kissed me. And I couldn't help but wonder why did I feel bad about it.

It never should've happened, not on the street where he could see us.

_You're still texting me back, so not that busy I presume._

I was, again, cheeky and playful. It took less time for him to reply this time, but I could clearly feel he was annoyed.

**Leave me be, Elisabeth.**

I pouted. So he really was **_seething_**. I wondered why did it affect him so much. Okay, I was his secretary and we had this _'I trust you you trust me'_ special thingy going on, but I thought he wasn't _this_ jealous. I wondered on and on what could be going on in his head but I got nowhere. So I just texted him how I felt about it all.

_:(_

He didn't reply and I was genuinely concerned about going to work on Monday.

As afraid as I was, the morning quickly came. I did my usual morning routine and bought my usual croissant on the way. The office was quiet as I got there at 7.40, and Mycroft wasn't there yet. I expected him to treat me horrible today, and I was, sadly, right.

He came in five minutes later when I was eating my croissant at my desk.

"What are you doing?" He already seemed so angry I wanted to go home. I wanted to reply but my mouth was full and he didn't even let me say anything. "You can't eat at your desk, you'll make a mess and I'm not paying for new equipment. If I see you eat here again, I'll write you up."

And with that, he disappeared in his office as I sat there, shocked.

Then, later, as I sorted his e-mails, he called out for me on the phone to make him a tea. So I did. When I brought it to him he didn't look up from the file he was reading as he spoke.

"What took you so long?"

"I'm sorry, sir, the water needs _time_ to boil." I replied a little annoyed with his attitude already.

Mycroft looked up at me and I started to worry for myself. I remembered the last time I saw this look, but it didn't make me feel any better. His eyes said **MURDER**.

"Talk back to me like that again", he was threatening me with a whisper, "and you won't have a job to attend to tomorrow. I'm not tolerating this anymore."

I wasn't about to tolerate what he did to me anymore either. I put the tea in front of him then left, closing the door behind me. I still couldn't believe this.

I continued working at my desk when someone approached me. I looked up at the man and immediately realised I saw him once.

**_On Sherlock's phone._ **

"Good morning, sir, how can I help you today?" I pulled myself closer to the desk and under it, I searched for that special little button with my knee. I pushed it forcefully and I heard the locks in Mycroft's office's door lock tight. I beamed a smile at the man. "Here to see Mr Holmes?"

_Of course he did._ He had a suit on just like anyone else. He seemed harmless, but a moment later he reached in his inner pocket and pulled out a handgun to point it at my face.

_That escalated quickly._

I knew Mycroft would take a look at the camera above me up in the corner to check why did I lock him in, and I also knew he'd call security right away, but it seemed I wouldn't have that much time. This man seemed _desperate_ and he was ready to do **_anything_**.

"I know you locked him in, open it up", he told me quietly and I kept his gaze still with a smile.

"I'm terribly sorry sir, I'm afraid Mr Holmes is too busy now to meet you."

"Then you're in my way", he growled and I knew he'd pull the trigger.

What was a secretary to people, anyway? Nothing. A replacable little thing. Though, I wasn't ready to be replaced yet. So I moved as quickly as I could, both my head and my hand, grabbing his wrist and twisting it. He tried to yank it out of my hold but all he could do was pull me through my desk. I let out a yell — my ribs didn't appreciate the impact with which I hit the floor but I still managed to remove the clip from his gun. The bullets scattered everywhere and he let out an angry shout as he kicked me in the stomach. I flied at least five meters before my back hit the wall but I pushed myself up quick, sweeping my leg on the floor under his feet. He fell with a **_thump_** and groaned but I was already on his chest. As I leaned forward to punch him in the jaw, I felt the blouse on my back go **RRRIP!**

**_Damn it,_ ** _this was my favourite blouse._

"Shit", I hissed when my fist hit him. His eyes rolled around momentarily before his hands found my neck.

We were right on the other side of the corridor from Mycroft's office and I saw from the corner of my eye that he indeed was watching from the other side of the bulletproof glass. I was glad he couldn't come out of there unless another button under my desk was pressed, but that didn't make it any easier for me.

I choked and I knew I had minutes before I lost my consciousness, so I needed to act quick.

So I punched. Again and again and again until his hold loosened on me. With a wheeze I pulled away, struggling to get to my feet, to no avail. My hand was bloody. I ripped the skin on my knuckles and broke his nose. He barely saw anything as he searched for me. I rolled on the ground to grab his gun, frantically putting a bullet in the clip as I slipped across the floor on my butt, ending up on my back, head and shoulders against my desk as he just could stand up.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" I shouted at him and he groaned, hesitating for a moment. I heard the security rushed up the stairs. So Mycroft called them as I suspected and the intruder switched off the lift. "I'm not kidding, I'll do it!"

"Do it then", he laughed darkly, "if I fail, he would kill me anyway."

" _He?_ " I echoed.

He stepped closer to me with his hands held up.

"A man behind a nice little mask", he panted and leaned down slowly. I was aiming at his face, unshaken. "One nobody would suspect..."  


He grabbed my ankle and pulled it forcefully. My head and shoulders fell back but I held myself up, making sure when I fired the gun the bullet would hit his shoulder. He needed to be interrogated, couldn't be killed, he knew too much.

The bad thing was, it didn't really stop him. His fist hit my side so hard right on my still broken ribs I couldn't even breathe. I shook under his assault and grabbed the gun tighter, hitting him as hard as I could on his temple. That knocked him out and he rolled off of me. I dropped the gun and tried to catch my breath, pushing my hand on my side. I could barely see from the pain as I pushed myself on my feet.

"You're late!" I yelled frustrated at the guards who just arrived and rushed to the unconscious man to put a handcuff on him.

With a painful expression, I walked behind my desk and pressed another button so Mycroft could finally come out of there. And when he did, he immediately started to yell at the guards for not arriving in time and letting a man in with a gun. One of them came to me to avoid the scolding, but I sent him away rather rudely. Every breath hurt again, my knuckles throbbed with pain and I checked with a small mirror which was in my bag to take a look at my throat. I groaned when I saw the already darkening bruises on my skin.

When the guards ran away with the attacker after they got a portion of Mycroft's wrath, my boss turned to me just when I started to redo the bun on the top of my head. He visibly made mental notes of my injuries but I didn't really care. I probably should've.

"How _could you_ lock me in?"

I tiredly looked up at him. Someone just beat the shit out of me and he was upset I locked him up? Was he nuts? That button was there for events like this. He was in **_danger_**. So was I of course, but I wasn't important.

"That's the protocol." I replied calmly as I leaned back in my chair. I almost winced. "But I'm sure you know that, sir."

Judging by his expression he was ready to continue the choking my attacker started. He put his hands on my desk and leaned closer to me. I held his predatory gaze and thought _don't move, don't blink, or you're dead._

I faintly realised I felt more threatened now than a little earlier when a gun was pointed at my head.

"I have a weapon with me. It was foolish of you for fighting him alone."

I gave him a half amused, half annoyed look.

"I hate to break it to you, sir, but an _umbrella_ **isn't** a weapon."

At this, he smirked and pushed himself away from my desk as the ambulence ran in. I groaned a _'no'_ as I looked back up at his triumphant expression.

"I'm fine!" I exclaimed and rolled my eyes as Mycroft literally ordered them to take me to the hospital. I angrily pushed one of them away who rushed to me. "I really am. Leave me alone!"

One of them persuaded me to check my pulse but that was all I let them do. I wasn't about to go in the hospital. Not after this. People could wander in this building with a goddamn gun! If I never received training, this could've end up at least in one death.

And it could've been Mycroft's. It made me upset. _So I’m not going anywhere._

Ten minutes later, when they still tried to reason with me and I answered with various versions of 'no', Sherrinford showed up. If it wasn't bad enough for me physically, the look Mycroft gave my gallant writer froze the blood in my veins. So I tried my best not to look at my boss.

"What are you doing here?" I grumbled to Sherrinford and I already pushed away his reaching hand. " ** _Don't..._** don't touch me now."

"You are hurt" He said, worried, then took my bloody hand in his and I winced.

**_Fuck!_ **

"N-no, I'm fine."

It was a lie. And he knew.

"I heard what happened and I was so worried about you. They said he had a gun."

"He never got a chance to use it..." I sighed and my face distorted with pain.

Sherrinford reached to gently stroke the bruises on my neck, then looked up in my eyes. He looked so angry and helpless. Actually, he was cute how concerned he was for my safety. Not like I needed him to be.

"I'd kill him if he still was here", he said quietly and I heard Mycroft snorted out loud.

I tried my best not to care about him as I pushed Sherrinford's hand away again.

"It's alright, really. I'm okay."

"I don't believe you", he said quietly and pecked my lips. At first I felt butterflies in my stomach, then they turned into ice cubes when I realised Mycroft probably saw this. "Do me a favour and go to the hospital, just to make sure you're really okay, alright?"

I could argue with the ambulence and Mycroft but with Sherrinford it was just too much. I rolled my eyes and threw my phones in my bag, picking it up to bring with me.

"Fine. If you all insist", I said then and Sherrinford kissed me again.

"Thank you, dear. Call me when you know something", he said quietly, stroking a loose lock of hair of mine behind my left ear.

I saw Mycroft walked in his office, closing the door rather forcefully behind himself. I tried not to care as we all started to walk for the stairs. Then I heard a very loud, ear piercing **_CRASH_**. It sounded like glass shattering. The others paid no mind but I was sure this sound came from Mycroft's office.

I knew the next time I'd go in there, that beautiful glass globe would be missing from his desk.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **oh**

They ran all sorts of tests and came to the conclusion I really wasn't in a very bad condition. _Well._ Apart from my ribs. They seemed to hurt a little more now. But the doc said it'd be much better in two-three weeks. I seriously was looking forward to it.

"E-mail these to Mycroft Holmes", said the doc to his assistant as he handed her my X-ray and the other papers about my other injuries.

" ** _I'm sorry_** , did I hear right?" I stared, wide eyed at the doc and he smiled at me with a nod.

"Yes, he rang us before you came and requested all your lab results to be sent to him."

 _Why?_ I wondered. He could just call me. Or I could call him. Or he could even visit me, but that probably would be too much for him...

"Isn't that slightly illegal? My results are **_mine_**."

"Well, Mr Holmes is, uh, _above_ the rules." **_God fucking damnit._** "When you're finished Sarah, please show Miss Lone her room."

"Wait a moment", I stared at the doc, "I'm not staying in here."

"Also a request from Mr Holmes", the doc shrugged apologetically. "You'll be under supervision for 72 hours."

I felt the blood started to rush in my veins and I was ready to blow up.

"Why?!" I raised my voice immediately and my face turned red.

"Because he thinks you might've suffered more damage."

"What _damage?!_ You just said I was **_fine!_** "

The doctor blinked at me, part worried, part scared.

"You still might have a concussion or might experience shock or PTSD. After all, you've been through so much."

I felt my cheeks burn as rage filled me up. **_Shock or PTSD._** _Is this man fucking serious?_

"I'm not staying here", I got to my feet and the doc sighed.

"I have to keep you here. If you're resisting, I have to use more _drastic_ methods."

" _This is **insane**_ ", I hissed as I picked my bag up and followed the nurse.

She led me to a room which was the same as last time. I was so angry I barely could calm myself down. Once I was alone I locked the door and called Mycroft.

„What do you think you’re doing?!” I shouted immediately in the phone with trembling hands. „You have no right to lock me up like this!”

„ _Sounds familiar?_ ” He grumbled in an amused but still annoyed tone.

„Stop messing around! I did that to protect you!”

„I do the same with you, now.”

„Nonsense! Let me go back to work this instant or I swear I’ll…”

„Do what? Beat up the nurses? Fight your way out of the hospital? You’re there because you’re my **_secretary_**. Remember?”

„But I don’t have anything with me and my cat can’t stay unfed for three days!” I protested and I was even more angry my voice already started to be a little bit calmer.

„Did you think I wouldn’t take care of that? I have the perfect man working on both of your problems.”

„Who?!” I hissed angrily, a little bit surprised he was at least a hundred steps ahead of me.

„Sherlock.”

_Are you fucking kidding me._

„This is a very bad joke Mycroft. Stop being so ridiculous and let me go back in the office. You know just as well as I do **I am not** a _damsel in distress._ ”

If anyone was a _damsel in distress,_ **_it’d be fucking him!_**

„Oh, _really?_ ” He cooed and his voice dripped with deadly venom now. „That’s not what I saw just before you left.”

 ** _I can’t believe this!!_** I wanted to scream and shout and kick and punch everything around me.

„I got tired of all of you trying to convince me to come here…”

„And two kisses convinced you, in the end.”

I let my hand down with the phone and stared at the ceiling for a few moments before I put the phone back to my ear.

„Why didn’t you say something then when we were there, in that situation, if it so bothered you?”

**He fucking hung up.**

This meant three things.

1.: It really **did** _bother him._

2.: He couldn’t do _anything_ about it.

3.: He simply **quit.**

I took a moment to swallow this. _Mycroft Holmes backed out from a situation which he **couldn’t** handle._

_What the frick frack was going on?!_

An hour later a tired looking Sherlock showed up in my room with my suitcase. I didn’t even ask how did he know where I’d be. I spotted a CCTV camera on the corner at the building just on the other side of the street and my window had no curtains.

**_Supervision. 0-24._ **

„Thank you, Sherlock”, I grumbled, seething, still very angry, as he handed me my suitcase. „Did you feed Ninnie?”

„Of course”, he nodded and showed the sleeve of his coat, which had Ninnie’s ginger fur on. „She took a liking to me. I gave her to your neighbour.”

„She probably remembered you from earlier. Usually she's too shy.”

I smiled as I opened my suitcase on my bed and checked what things he packed me. **So.** _Underwear._ **_Oh my God._** Sherlock put underwear in my suitcase. If things weren’t bad enough already! Sherrinford couldn’t kiss me in front of him but it was alright if Sherlock went through my panties?! _How was this even logical?!_

„Actually, I had someone with me and she's very good with cats. She also packed the suitcase."

I blinked. So, it wasn't him going through my panties and bras, it was a complete stranger.

**_So_ ** _much better._

„Thanks for bringing my laptop.”

„I thought you’d need it. We could chat. I have a new case.”

I turned to look at him and smiled immediately.

„What case? Tell me all about it!”

And so he did. A few people went missing and they weren't connected at all. But he said this maniac will make a mistake, just like any other before him and when he does, he'll catch him.

"And what happened exactly in the office? Mycroft didn't tell me much, just that you ended up here again."

My anger immediately returned. I started to explain to Sherlock how I locked Mycroft in and dealt with the hitman and also told him what happened afterwards. And the glass globe. He hummed.

"...and now I'll have to be here for three days. Which is completely ridiculous. He knows best I don't care I was attacked. It doesn't have an effect on me."

"But others there have no idea", Sherlock reasoned. "And that man you talked about... what was his name?"

I blushed. I didn't leave Sherrinford out of what happened.

"Ford."

"Full name?"

"Sherrinford Holton."

Sherlock frowned.

"What?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Nothing, just... a strange name..."

He was wondering about something, but I had no idea what. He slipped his hands in his jacket's pocket.

"Anyway, I have to go", he mumbled and I nodded.

"Good for you", I grumbled.

"Don't worry, three days is not the end of the world." Sherlock flashed a half smile at me. "See you later."

"See ya", I sighed as I watched him leave.

I got my laptop out of my suitcase as I called Sherrinford.

"Hey, love", he said and I smiled.

"Hey", I replied, "it seems I have to stay in the hospital for three days."

"Oh no! How are you feeling?"

"Not because of what happened, I'm really fine. It's just... they think I might experience a shock or PTSD."

"That sounds very serious", he replied, "I hope it won't happen to you though."

"I'm fine." If I got a pound for every time I said this, I'd be a millionare. "I'm very strong headed."

"That, I discovered", Sherrinford mused and I heard in his voice he was smiling. "Will you come online tonight?"

"Certainly. I'll be bored to death."

And so I did. I changed to a shirt and trousers in the bathroom and I started to watch movies. I got food — Chloe seemed she liked to be in my company. We had a little chat, she asked what happened this time and she was concerned about me, but I told her there was no need to be.

Gosh it was so tiring to repeat again and again that I was indeed alright.

By the time Sherrinford came online, I really was bored. I kept bombarding him with messages how alone and bored I was and I think I kind of got on his nerves. Then, out of the blue, he offered a game.

Which wasn't a game at all.

**Let's sext. If you're really that bored.**

Sext? _Sext??_ As in, send him sexy texts? I blinked rapidly at the screen and bit my lip as I wrote a message to Sherrinford.

_I never sexted before._

**Really? Well, it's not that hard. No responsibility. Safest way to have sex. Not literally but almost. Want to try it with me?**

**I'd love to make you squirm, you bored little angel. ;)**

What my brain did to this was truly hilarious. I started to feel much more warmer now and I already squirmed. He was right; I wouldn't be bored if we wrote things like this to each other. This man was unbelievable.

I decided I'd play. Sherrinford was right, this really was harmless. No responsibility, nothing. So I opened up a notepad — because I wanted to save it — and started to write a little something.

_You're grabbing my waist and pulling me close. I look up in your eyes shyly, expecting you to say something but the words never come. Your lips crash against mine and I slip my hands up on your chest, stroking your waistcoat gently as our tongues are dancing passionately. I moan your name in your mouth because you're kissing so well it makes me want you there and then. You push me against your desk and you lower your hands, groping me tightly and lifting me up so I sit. I open my legs and wrap them around your waist. I can feel your hard manliness against my hidden sweet spot; my skirt is out of the way now..._

As I finished typing it, I quickly copied the text and clicked on Sherrinford's window. I quickly pasted and hit enter, and as I was looking at the keyboard, I didn't notice someone else wrote a message to me and their window popped up in the exact second I pasted and sent the text.

At first, I didn't notice the mistake. Only when in that window my partner's reply arrived.

**oh**

I blinked and checked the message before mine and I froze to death.

**Good evening. How's the first day there, Elisabeth? Is it bad?**

I frantically stared at the name in the window and screamed.

"Noooooo! _Oh my **GOD!"**_

If anyone heard this and I woke the entire hospital up, I wouldn't care. Because instead of Sherrinford **I SENT THE SEXT TO MYCROFT!**

"Nonono! **_Nooo!_** "

I'm not going to work ever again. I'll pack up and leave the fucking country. Oh my God what a stupid, clumsy, idiot...

I tried to delete the message but it wasn't possible and he already read it probably anyway. Oh my God I'll never wash this shame off of myself. I really needed to quit now. I quickly typed another message for him.

_I'm terribly sorry sir, I didn't mean to send this here. It was an accident, won't happen again, I'm so sorry!_

I bit my lip then turned away from my laptop and threw myself on the pillows. I whined into them for a long, long time. This was the worst mistake of my life. I started to kick the bed angrily at what a fucking idiot I was. I wanted to punch myself so badly now.

Then, with a sigh, I sat up and looked at the screen. Both Sherrinford and Mycroft wrote, but Mycroft's window was on top.

**Do go on, Elisabeth.**

_What???_ **No!** Oh my God, no! I won't sext my boss! Holy shit what was he thinking??!

_No, sir, please be kind and forget it. It was a mistake._

I put my hand on my mouth when I saw he started to write a reply. _I'm so **done**. _ This couldn't happen, not like this, ever. I whined. Why was I so unlucky?

**I do not consider it a mistake. Continue it. I'm curious now how would you imagine me... corrupting you.**

I read this message twice to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

_But sir, you're my boss, it'd be inappropriate._

**We're not in the office now.**

_But... I can't!_

**Do you want me to continue it?**

Oh my **_ajsjrkd_**. I stared at his question and I wrote a big fat **YES**. Then I deleted it and wrote a simple little **no**. Then I deleted that too and just sat there, staring at my screen, thinking I should go offline right now and save whatever sanity I still had.

But, of course, Mycroft thought otherwise.

I saw he was typing, but I decided I'd write something to Sherrinford, since I've abandoned him for _minutes_.

**So, what do you think?**

_Maybe after I came back from the bath? Please give me half an hour._

**Aww, alright.**

I closed his window and waited for Mycroft's reply which he still typed. Then he suddenly stopped and stayed like that for a couple of minutes.

**You're right. It'd be inappropriate. You better send these messages to... your partner.**

And without even waiting for my reply, he signed out.

“No!” I whined and leaned back against the wall.

All of my excitement were thrown out the window. I sat there, completely disappointed as different kinds of emotions started to engulf me.

It took me hours to untangle them. I even fell asleep.

Only later did I realise I closed my laptop without replying to Sherrinford. A great deal of guilt joined to the mess in my head. Why couldn’t it be _simple?_ And what did Mycroft want with all of these messages he sent me? Why did he write he was curious about the continuation? Did he actually want something from me, or not? _Was this just a play?_ **Was he toying with me again? _Or not?!_**

I didn’t know what made me more confused. He gave me so many mixed signals. I felt like he hated me, then he makes me feel like he wanted to… write dirty things with me. It was like he repressed everything towards me and masked it with hatred. **_Like a little boy who showed he liked a girl by pulling her hair._**

So I’ve had enough.

Wednesday evening I could go home and until then I exchanged no new messages with Mycroft. I did chat with Sherrinford, but I convinced myself that I needed to stop messing around with him. I told him no relationships ~~(and he still kissed me if I wanted or not)~~ , but I needed to sort this shit out and from all that mess in my head I could realise I still wanted Mycroft. Especially after those messages. I wanted to clarify the situation with him and I was ready to literally _launch myself at him_ on Thursday, if need be. Why else did he break his glass globe on Monday, why was he so upset I locked him in and dealt with the attacker alone if I didn’t mean _anything_ to him? So I wanted to have **THE TALK** with him. As I mentally prepared myself for the next day, around 8 pm, he sent me a text to my business phone.

**7.45 sharp. – M**

_Of course, sir. I can’t wait. E. L._

I hoped he didn’t think I was sarcastic. Because I really couldn’t wait to see him the next morning and I was tired of concealing it. Maybe he just needed reassurance…? Seriously, this three days were very bad without him. But it did my injuries some good. My shoulder and leg didn’t hurt anymore and my ribs were quite well too. Still painful if I touched it, but rest did it so much good. I immediately unlocked my phone the moment it started to buzz-buzz in my hand.

**I remind you that nothing happened. – M**

_Certainly. But that doesn’t prevent me from missing you. E. L._

**I’m sure your partner thinks the same about you. – M**

_He’s not my partner, sir. E. L._

No more messages came from him that night, so I let him go like this. The next morning I got up earlier, did my usual routine, ate my croissant on the way and met with Sherrinford at 7.40 as we discussed earlier down in his workplace. I was nervous. I didn’t think it through, really. But I had to do it! I had to let him go.

„Listen”, I said, nervously cracking my knuckles as I stood before him. „The thing is… you’re a very good man, but… I think I like someone else.”

Sherrinford tilted his head and there was a very strange glint in his eyes just for a moment. Then he sighed and nodded.

„I get it.”

I blinked, confused at him.

„Really?”

„Really. I suspected.” He shrugged and looked like a lost puppy. I started to feel very sorry for him. „But it’s alright. I promise.”

„I’m sorry”, I offered and he shook his head.

„Nah… don’t care about me. I’ll be fine. You just… hurry up. Your boss won’t be happy if you’re late.”

I looked at my phone’s screen and saw I had three minutes to arrive to my place.

„I’m so sorry, Sherrinford. You deserve a much more better person than me.”

He shook his head again.

„Please… _leave._ ”

I pursed my lips and bid him goodbye, literally running up to the lift, which, of course, came as slow as it was possible. **Damn it.** I didn’t want to be late today. As soon as I arrived, I checked Mycroft’s office and he was already there. And I was right. _The glass globe was missing._

„Good morning, sir”, I offered, but he didn’t look at me.

„Good morning”, he grumbled and kept reading a file. He turned a page and I noticed his right hand was wrapped in gauze. My mind started to race immediately. **_Why?_** He couldn’t possibly cut himself with the shattered glass here on Monday, right? But… that seemed the logical answer to my own question. I started to feel bad. _Just because he hurt himself… right after he saw someone kiss me._ „You’re late.”

„No, according to my clock”, I checked the time, it was 7.44.

„Things run here according to **_my clock_** ”, he now looked up at me and his eyes nearly pierced me again. _Was I missing this? Really?! Was I?! **I’m a fucking masochist then!**_ „Get to your desk, now.”

„Sir, I wanted to talk about…”

„Not now”, he snapped coldly, „I need to sort a lot of mess out _your_ **_limited mind_** can’t comprehend. **Don’t** _bother_ me.”

I clenched my jaw and spun on my heels, leaving his office angrily as I came to a conclusion.

**_I’m a fucking masochist and also a goddamned idiot!_ **


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight."

**I was so stupid.**

I just dumped the Jackpot for _this_.

Two weeks later he still treated me like shit. Honestly, I just couldn’t take this anymore. This time, his problem was I took too much time typing down an e-mail for him.

I angrily started to type and I hit the keyboard so forcefully it started to dance under my hands. I was so pissed I couldn’t control myself. I realised I couldn’t figure out this man and I probably never even will.

So the next few hours I kept thinking what should I do about this situation when he stopped in front of my desk. I looked up at him, still angry.

"I'll go to a meeting." He put a few files on my desk. "Type these down in a document and send them to me in e-mail. I'll be back in two hours."

"Fine", I grumbled and I picked up the first, immediately starting typing.

"Manners, Elisabeth", he growled at me as he turned to leave.

When he was gone I grimaced and mimicked his stupid face.

"Mannnnehhrs, Elisahbeth", I whined around angrily then continued typing. "Uuurgh, I hate him!"

I wished this was true. But it wasn't. It still wasn’t. I kept looking up at his door and realised every time he wasn't there. I finished typing an hour later, sent him the e-mail, then I had nothing to do unless more e-mails came in.

I got bored. And I remembered what happened the last time I got bored.

I picked up my business phone. It only had his number in. I swallowed nervously as I opened up our texts.

He was at a meeting. And I just couldn't not remember what he wrote to me online...

**I'm curious now how would you imagine me... corrupting you.**

I smirked to myself. Well, if he was curious two weeks ago, I thought he probably still was curious. I sucked in my lower lip.

_~~No, don't do it. He could fire you for it.~~ _

**_Do it!_ ** _He's evil incarnate, he deserves some difficulties, after all, he makes all of your working hours miserable!_

I cocked a brow and smirked confidently. I'd lure him into a trap, if he replied to my texts.

_I'm all done with the files, sir. How's the meeting? E_

**Yes, I saw. Boring. — M**

That's it. He's getting it now. I don't care. I threw all caution to the wind.

_Hmm, I could think of a few ways to entertain you. E_

**What ways? — M**

You oblivious, cute, little cinnamon roll, you. ~~Or so I wanted to believe.~~

_I'd slip a hand on your thigh under the table. Then I'd let my fingers wander. E_

**Very inappropriate. — M**

He liked it, I could _feel_.

_Is it? Would it be even more inappropriate if I carefully and slowly unzipped your pants? E_

**You're going to get yourself in trouble, Elisabeth. — M**

Whoops.

_Must you turn me on, sir? You're making me squirm. E_

**Stop it. Now. I'm at a meeting. — M**

_But you aren't bored anymore, are you, sir? Just imagine my hand right there. I'd make you hard in a blink. E_

**Stop it! — M**

I remembered my dream and I had to tease him even more.

_Or what? Will you put me over your knees and spank me? E_

**After these messages, I think that would suffice. You'd get the spanking of your life. — M**

Oh yes! He was in the game! I knew he was just asking for more.

_That'd make me so wet, I'd soak your beautiful, expensive attire. E_

**Elisabeth! Stop. Now! — M**

I grinned like an idiot. I found too much enjoyment in this. Especially that I knew he couldn't do anything about it at the moment. I kept him constantly under stress and I loved it. I imagined him sitting there, listening with a poker face while he couldn't control his arousal. And, Mycroft being a man, he probably had problems with hiding it.

This was too funny.

"Excuse me?" A woman in front of my desk spoke. I looked up, immediately pressing the button on my phone so the screen went black — though she wouldn't see it anyway since I leaned back in my chair — as I smiled at Lady Smallwood, or, as I called her, the Old Hag. Her face was nothing but wrinkles and she tried to look young with all the innocent makeup but honestly, she wasn't. And she also flirted with Mycroft, which was an unforgivable mistake in my eyes. So I kinda... **~~hated~~** strongly disliked her. "Is Mr Holmes in his office?"

I smiled up at the ~~ugly~~ woman.

"No, ma'am. He's at a meeting and will come back about an hour later."

"Alright. I'll wait for him, then."

She wandered to his office's door and leaned against the wall, getting her phone out of her case. I clenched my jaw. _Party ruiner._ If Mycroft comes back, she'll be in the center of his attention.

But that, of course, won't stop me from making him even more uncomfortable.

I unlocked my phone. He didn't write any more messages, so I typed up another.

_I keep wondering... if you spanked me for real, would that turn you on, too? Would my struggling in your lap make you as hard as a rock? E_

**I swear to God Elisabeth, you're in so much trouble. — M**

_Why? Can't you keep it in your pants now? E_

**We'll see who laughs in the end. — M**

_What will you do? Corrupt me? E_

**I'll be back in ten minutes. We'll have a long discussion about these texts, young lady. And this is a threat. — M**

I chewed on my lower lip and a part of me was afraid he'd really fire me now, but all in all, this was worth it. I put my phone down and started clicking around aimlessly, waiting for him to come out of the lift already.

When he appeared, however, with an unreadable expression, Old Hag immediately made her move. I couldn't decide if it was bad for me or not. If Mycroft was pissed, distraction did me good, because he had time to calm down. But if he was about to continue our play... then distraction kills it.

I hoped he'd continue. After he sent Lady Smallwood away.

"Good afternoon, Mycroft." Even her voice irritated me. I pretended my computer was the most interesting thing in the entire world. "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight."

I looked at them for a moment and I could've sworn Mycroft was _confused_.

"Dinner?" He asked back. "Why?"

"Why not?"

 **Oh no, you fhsjjskkd—** I glared at her back and I wished my eyes could kill.

"Alright, why not."

 **No.** He couldn't possibly... agree... to an invitation from this wrinkled, Old Hag... if I pinched her face and pulled it, her skin would stretch for a meter. And _how_ could he?! After those texts? Why did he accept such a thing when **_WE_** already had a _thing_ going on?! He couldn't possibly go on a date with her after that?!

_Surprise, surprise. He fucking_

**DID.**

And _lo, behold:_ Old Hag touched his arm. And I nearly punched my monitor off the desk.

"I'll send a car", Mycroft offered. "Around 5?"

No. **_NO!_** It's a date! _This was a damned date! The Hag **had a chance!**_

"Perfect", she breathed and my stomach turned.

I threw Sherrinford away and... and I get **_this_**. The Old Hag visibly squeezed his arm and left. I angrily turned to my monitor and started writing an e-mail. So... was this burning feeling in his gut, too? This murderous instinct? Did he suffer from it just like I do now? It was unbearable. I wanted to smash something. **_Anything._**

No surprise that poor glass globe turned to dust.

So, he was there, just for a few moments before he walked to my desk. I felt many things at once. From the fading desire to the awakening hatred and disappointment. I was a mess.

**_How could he?!_ **

"Book a table for two on my name in that Italian restaurant", he told me and I looked at my keyboard. _I'll break it. I'll fucking **break it.**_ "And if you ever again send me texts like that, while I'm at a meeting, we'll have a problem."

He threatened me before he met the Old Hag. Now, he didn't even seem like he cared about me.

The Old Hag was the best, then. And I was... I was just... _his secretary._ A little play when he was bored.

I booked a table for them. And started to literally **SUFFER**. I knew she liked Mycroft; since her husband died she showed up often. But I wasn't entirely sure he actually got her flirting. Even now, as he asked back, he seemed confused and oblivious to what she was suggesting. But that couldn't be. He was _clever_. I refused to believe he had no idea. It was impossible. But, I thought, it was fair. He watched me when I spent hours with Sherrinford. Now, it'd be me knowing he was with a woman. Who wasn't me.

It was payback time and I'll have to endure it.

I was waiting for the time to finally go home. He sent me a text to arrange a pick up for ~~the bitch~~ Lady Smallwood, and I did. Then I was free to go at 4.

I rushed home, packed a shirt, trousers and shoes and ran to the closest gym. I changed to my gym clothes and found myself a punching bag.

I had to release some stress. And I also didn't want to know the time. I got my headphones on and started punching right away.

Punch, punch, **PUNCH!**

My ribs ached. They disliked the action. I tried not to think or feel any emotions, but it was very hard for me. _Think of the pain, that's more real than your feelings for Mycroft._

It wasn't. So I furiously kept punching the bag and I was putting all of my force into it.

 _I hate his stupid face! He's an oblivious idiot! A control freak! A socially awkward oaf! He doesn't deserve my attention! I can find much more better men at him. There's that one near the window on the bicycle._ He was rather muscular and had curly brown hair. He looked tall and he was handsome. And he checked me out twice. _Who'd need Mycroft?_

I angrily punched the bag again and again, because **I did.** I needed him. He brought out the best and the worse of me. He could make me do things I haven't done in a long while. He protected me and kept me safe. And he was obviously jealous.

I seemed **important**.

Then, maybe, just maybe I was wrong. Maybe he really just needed a secretary... with benefits. I started to sweat and pant as I punched even more angry and I didn't feel pain anymore. The thought numbed me.

What if he just used me?

Someone touched my left shoulder and I lowered my arms. I turned and got my headphones off. It was a trainer. She looked at my hands with a puzzled expression, her golden locks fell forward in her face. Then her blue eyes found mine.

Those orbs reminded me of Mycroft again.

"Hi. Your hands are bleeding. I have to ask you to stop using this punching bag."

I looked at my knuckles and _lo behold_ , she was right. I sighed and when I shook my head.

"Sorry", I mumbled.

"It's alright." She wiped off my blood and walked away.

With an empty expression, I watched my hands as I clenched and relaxed my fingers. I shook my head.

"Hey." The brown haired, cute guy stood and walked up to me. I didn't find him at all interesting that way, my head was too full with Mycroft. So I just replied hi and continued looking at my fingers. "You look like you could use a drink."

At this, I looked at him. He was just a little bit taller than me. And I remembered what Mycroft told me ages ago... _no more pubs, Miss Lone._

 _Well you just watch me. Oh, **wait** , you can’t since you’re on a date. So fuck that._ This man was right, I could use a drink. With a smug smirk, I nodded.

"Yes, that’d be great”, I beamed a smile at him. “By the way, I’m Elisabeth, nice to meet you.”

“Heath”, he smiled back. “Tell me if you’re done with working out and we can go.”

“Then let’s go now. I’ll just have a shower and change my clothes.”

“Good idea, was about to suggest the same thing.”

So we both went to have a shower. While I was at it, I imagined how angry Mycroft would be if he saw the CCTV records tonight. But I didn’t care. The thought brought me weird joy. He wouldn’t know, only when it was too late.

When I was done and met with Heath outside, I started to flirt. **Hard.** Because I could do that. I was a grown up, independent woman and I did what I wanted. I needed no one to tell me what to do. And he liked it. _God damnit,_ _**why**_ couldn’t Mycroft just react like this man did? He was smiling and making me blush and…

Why can’t I stop thinking about Mycroft? It’s been two weeks I broke up with Sherrinford and we pretended nothing happened and I was goddamn tired of it!! **I’ll have fun!** _With_ or _**without**_ him! I really just should forget he ever even existed…

So we made our way to the Ten Bells. I remembered the last time I was here, with Scott… happy times. Mycroft wasn’t such a pain in the ass back then.

I immediately ordered myself Scotch. After three, Heath's silly jokes seemed even funnier than they actually were. I laughed my head off and I finally forgot Mycroft. For a while. It was around seven and I thought to myself they probably were finished with that stupid date dinner. _Whatever,_ I thought and downed the fourth Scotch. Then – out of nowhere – a big brute of a man in black suit walked in the Ten Bells. When he spotted me and started to walk towards me, I immediately knew why was he there and who he was searching for.

**So.**

_Mycroft **knew**._

And he sent someone to collect me.

 _What a prick,_ I thought and I decided I wouldn’t leave just because His Highness told me so. I could fight this mountain easily. Though, I didn’t want to destroy half of the pub, I’d definitely wouldn’t give in to it easily. When the – probably body guard – approached us, Heath looked at me with a frown and I patted his shoulder as if I said, _don’t worry, I got this._

“I’d like another”, I told the bartender and tossed him my glass. He nodded and refilled just when the man arrived. I looked up at him when I got my glass back. Before I sipped my Scotch, he opened his mouth to say something but I spoke earlier. “Did my boss send you? Tell him I don’t care about what he has to say.”

Heath’s frown deepened and the body guard narrowed his already tiny eyes.

“I am here to bring you to Mr Holmes’s car.” Came the dry reply.

“Oh, really?” I cooed with a grin. **Bring me to his car.** What was Mycroft thinking? Couldn’t he be so ridiculous to think I’d cooperate? After all that happened? Oh, no. I wasn’t about to do that. “I’m busy. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid that can not happen.”

“Well it will because I’m not going anywhere.”

At this, half of the pub went silent and started to pay attention to the commotion near the bar. I sipped my Scotch again as I leaned on the bar behind me and I smiled at the monstrous man who seemed much more upset with me. The alcohol made me much braver.

The sloth brained man pulled his phone out of his suit’s inner pocket and made a call. As we waited for him to speak into it, I sipped my drink again and winked at Heath who smiled.

“I’ve encountered the difficulties you’ve been mentioning sir.” So he knew I wouldn’t leave just because I was summoned. How _interesting_. Maybe he knew me more than he showed? “Understood, sir.” The brute ended the call.

“So, what?” I cocked a brow and batted my eyelashes up at him. “What will you do now?”

“I’ll bring you to him”, came the reply and reached for my arm but I was quicker than him. His hand only grabbed the air. “Stop this!”

“I have to pay for my drink.” I rolled my eyes as if this was what I wanted to do initially. “I can’t leave without paying, that’s crime, isn’t it?”

I drank the last of my fifth Scotch and put the glass on the bar. The bartender quickly took it, he probably was afraid someone would break it. Heath moved to pay for it himself but I waved him off as I gave my credit card to the bartender. Most of the pub was watching us now.

“Come with me, now”, the mountain growled at me and I sighed.

I knew Mycroft would be immensely pissed, but I didn’t want to see his stupid face. So I tossed the man’s hand away.

“I don’t want to. Tell him I don’t care, whatever he wishes to say.”

“I’m not risking my job just because you’re throwing a fit.”

I wasn’t as fast as before and he forcefully grabbed my hand and started to yank me out. At first, I wanted to kick and punch, but then I decided I’d rather stay calm about this.

If Mycroft sat in that car to which this one brought me… I’d kick and punch **_there._**


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I find your lack of enjoyment in life alarming.”

Okay. I slightly miscalculated my alcohol intake. Happens if I had no drinks for... how long? Alright I sometimes had beer at home after work, but that's just beer.

Now this Scotch got me a wee bit tipsy. I staggered after the brute who pulled me through the bar and then outside. It was raining hard and it was darker because of the clouds. The brute opened the door for me and growled 'sit' before he let me go. I thought for a moment how far could I run before he caught me, but made up my mind and sat in the car instead, pulling the door after me with as much force as I could conjure. Of course, when I looked at the left side of the seat, Mycroft was there with the coldest possible expression on his face.

"What did I tell you?" He asked and I rolled my eyes. When I didn't reply and saw we left the area, I thought of Heath. Poor guy. I felt like a child who's been picked up by daddy way before the party ended and I hated it. "Who said you can come here?"

"Your arrogance truly knows no bounds", I hissed under my nose and refused to turn my head and eyes toward him.

"I told you not to go to pubs. And you did. Explain, why?!"

He raised his voice and I glared at him angrily. The Scotch washed away my fears.

"It's none of your business! How many times do I have to tell you?! I'm so done with you!"

Mycroft's face darkened even more.

"Explain!" He demanded. "Why did you go there?"

We stared at each other, either of us blinked, both of us fed up with the other's behaviour.

"You think you're so fucking clever, can't you figure it out?"

Mycroft visibly clenched his jaw and I was slightly shocked when I realised I never saw him do this before. His hand was gripping his umbrella's handle so tight his knuckles were all white. But his voice — his voice didn't sound as upset now as before.

"I want to hear you say it. Tell me!"

I inhaled his expensive cologne deeply. In a small space like this it felt almost suffocating. I wanted to bury my face in his chest and fall asleep in this scent. I loved it. And hated it. And missed it. And never wanted to feel it again.

The car stopped before the lights and I glanced out at the street. I should do it. No, I shouldn't, but... I can't answer him to this question. Not in this state. I'd probably end up babbling nonsense, or worse... I could end up crying and telling him things he should never know.

So I made my choice.

I cursed 'fuck it' under my breath, then flung the door open and I was out in the cold rain in a second. I heard Mycroft yelled my name shortly after, but I quickly made my way to a dark alley to seperate myself from the car. I walked fast as I wrapped my arms around myself and felt the rain got under my clothes. My hair was wet in less than five seconds, as if I just stepped out of the shower. A rather cold one.

"Elisabeth!"

Oh no. It sounded from closer than a moment before. When I glanced back at him only a few meters seperated us. How could he do this? How was he this fast? I tripped and nearly fell when he grabbed my arm and gently yanked me back on my feet, right under his umbrella to shelter both of us from the cold rain. Not like it mattered to me, I was already soaked. He stared at me in the dark and I couldn't make out his expression.

"Let me go", I tried to pull my arm from his hold but he only held me tighter.

"Don't be silly. You'll catch a cold..."

"I'm not silly! I do what I want and if I want to walk in the rain, I will!"

"Elisabeth, you're drunk and soaking wet. I don't want you to catch a cold."

"You say that like you care!"

I cried. That was it. I cried. Stupid Scotch. He heard how my voice changed but he couldn't see my tears in the dark and I was glad about it. He'd deduce way too much from that.

"I care." Mycroft said, almost softly as he pulled me closer to himself. "I worry about you."

He didn't let me go and I didn't pull away. I secretly wanted to be this close to him — but I also knew all of this was just an illusion.

"No, you don't! You're nothing more than a manipulating liar! You always have everything your way and you cheat and lie to achieve anything! I'll not be a fool again, I don't believe you!"

He stayed silent for a few moments. I tried to twist my arm out of his hold, but he still didn't let me go.

"I'm not saying you're not right. But, you should believe me this time, because I do care about you."

"Yeah, yeah of course", I rolled my eyes.

"Why are you so sarcastic?"

Didn't he _know?_ Didn't he **_see?_**

"You're making my life _miserable!"_ I blurted out. "You don't let me relax, you won't let me go to pubs, you don't let me meet with men I like, while **_you_** ignore me... you're always **rude** with me at work. And even after _what happened today_ you took _her_ to a date. So I'm **done,** I've had enough, _leave me alone."_

"I took _her_ to a date? Lady Smallwood?" He hesitated for a moment. "That wasn't a date..."

Despite the dark I saw him frown. I felt my pulse rising.

"Was it business related in any way? _Anything_ about work?"

"Well, no..."

 ** _"Then it was a bloody date!"_** I yelled and finally yanked my arm free. As I turned to leave as quickly as possible, I murmured to myself. "And he says he's _'smart'_..."

"But why is it even important to you?" He questioned and came after me, grabbing my arm and pulling me back under his umbrella once more. I refused to look at him.

"You _made me_ book a table and I _had to_ also get a car for her, do you have any idea how that felt?!"

"Are you jealous? Because I took _her_ to a dinner, _not you?_ "

At this I looked up at him again. He sounded surprised as he finally started to understand and I half liked it, half didn’t.

"Just think of how it felt like to know I spent the day with Sherrinford."

Suddenly, he held my arm tighter. His voice immediately changed and his face morphed into his _battle mode_ expression.

 ** _"Who?"_** He demanded sharply.

"Sherrinford. The guy from the office, remember? I dumped him two weeks ago."

I didn't say why, and he didn't ask. He started to pull me back to his car. I tried to resist, but he didn’t let me slip away and I was happy about it… after all, I wanted to be with him, even if I never admitted it even to myself.

"Why didn't... I should've..." He grumbled to himself then did something I never heard him do. He _cursed_. "You have to come with me."

"No, I don't, I don't want to..."

"Listen to me", he stopped abruptly and turned to look at my face again. A streetlight illuminated his face and he looked dead serious. "Sherrinford is the most dangerous man you'll ever have the unfortune to meet. I'll explain more but you have to come with me."

I didn't know why I cooperated. Maybe because I wanted to spend more time with him, or maybe because I saw the fear he couldn't hide from his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, I felt like he was telling me the truth.

But perhaps I was just as drunk as Hell and imagined it all. Maybe I was asleep somewhere, or my Scotch was drugged…

"But I'm... the car will get wet."

"Don't care about that. It's more important to get you somewhere safe."

I obeyed with a sigh and got back in the car, thinking he probably, again, just manipulated me. Once I was in, he closed the door and walked to the other side and closed his umbrella, sat in and picked out his phone from his suit.

"What was the name of that man at the Ten Bells?" I frowned at Mycroft's question as he called someone and he seemed irritated. "Tell me!"

"Heath", I shrugged, "he just... he didn't tell his full name."

"Code Tombstone. Ten Bells, Heath, probably still there." He ended the call and lowered his hand.

"If you know who Sherrinford is, why didn't you recognise him?" I asked and realised I sobered up a little.

"Because he's supposed to be dead."

I blinked rapidly.

"Then why does he run around with a name from which you could recognise him?"

"He gave his real name away only to you. I know about everyone who works in our building and there’s no one by that name."

"So the Holton family name is just a fake?"

Mycroft clenched his jaw. For the second time today.

"He is Sherrinford _Holmes_." I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. At my expression, he sighed and rubbed a palm against his face just before he leaned back in the seat. “He’s our eldest brother. He died in a house fire. Or so I thought.”

“Are you lying to me now?”

“No. This is real. I can show you the official file when we get there.”

“Get where?”

“To my home.”

I stared at him, shocked as Hell, then I laughed a little and shook my head. After I almost confessed I was jealous of Lady Smallwood? After this pathetic attempt to have fun? No way.

“Oh, **no.** _No._ Take _me_ to _my_ home.”

“Your home isn’t safe.”

“Have you forgotten by any chance what am I capable of?” I challenged, irritated and he seemed angrier at my words.

“ **If** Sherrinford, _by any chance,_ saw you with that man, he’ll undoubtedly try to contact you. And by _contact_ , I mean he’d kidnap and torture you until you’re so damaged you can’t recall your own name.”

“Why would he do such a thing?” I argued, “I haven’t done anything!”

“You said you stopped seeing him. Why? What was the reason?”

“I told him I…” My face went blank.

“What?”

“…I like someone else.” I finished, whispering and I looked out of the window. I felt like I’m giving myself away to Mycroft and when I looked at him, I saw he understood immediately. “But… but that was two weeks ago.”

“I have my ways of looking after certain people”, he mused quietly after a few minutes of silence, “and he has his own ways. He always was a charming individual, highly intelligent and very dangerous, because he uses his knowledge to control people…”

“That sounds _eerily familiar_ ”, I shot Mycroft an annoyed look.

“Listen, compared to Sherrinford, I am harmless. **Yes,** I kept my eyes on you. **Yes,** I… sometimes… went _a bit_ too far…”

 _“Sometimes?!”_ I exclaimed and he waved me off.

“What am I trying to say here that he’s not stopping until he has what he wants. In this case, his revenge. He’s such a vengeful soul, and takes it very seriously. Literally, to the _extreme._ There’s no stopping him if he started it.”

“So he thinks I broke up with him because of Heath?”

“Yes.”

“And Heath might be in danger?”

“Not _‘might be’_. He **_is_**. If all of this is true and he’s out of our grasp, I can’t guarantee _this…_ Heath’s safety.” He leaned back and sighed. Then he glanced at me with a frown. “Who is he anyway?”

_Oh no, don’t you start._

“Just some guy I met in the gym.” I shrugged it off.

“Some guy?” He echoed and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh my God, **yes!** Just **_some guy!_** People do _this_ , Mycroft, they talk to people, _flirt_ with each other, they take each other to places, pubs or **_dinners_** ”, I glared at him, pouting. “Then they _kiss_ and **fuck**.” He snorted. I had no idea why. Because of the last word? Or the thought I thought he and Lady Smallwood would…? Or because it annoyed him I even uttered it? Or because he thought that was what I wanted to do with Heath? I couldn’t decide. “This is how life works for _ordinary_ people. Sometimes they marry each other and have children and live together. That’s what **_we_** , mere **_underlings,_** do.”

Mycroft stayed in silence a little.

“So you thought I’d like to end up with _her_ in a… situation like **_that?”_**

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

He narrowed his eyes. I knew he knew.

“You care.”

I crossed my arms on my chest and stared out of the window. We started to get out of town, I could see that. I felt this was the best moment to change the subject before I confess it to him that **I…** _did I, really?_ I swallowed. _No, it must be the Scotch. I can’t sink that **low.**_

“I want my cat with me”, I demanded and Mycroft sighed.

“Fine. I’ll make sure she gets there.”

I looked back at him and saw he was making a call again. He told someone to fetch Ninnie, then looked at me from the corner of his eyes as he finished the call. I frowned slightly.

“But… if I go with you there…” I mused. “Wouldn’t that put you in danger, too?”

Mycroft stared at me for a long time before he slowly, quietly replied. It seemed to me he chose his words carefully.

“I can’t be reached if I do not want it.”

“So, as a matter of fact, yes, you are.” I tilted my head back and sighed. “Wonderful.”

“He’ll try and he’ll make a mistake. Because eventually, he’s human.”

“You said you didn’t even know he’s alive. He was right under your nose and you never recognised him.”

“He was different back then.”

“What I’m trying to say is that he could get close to you without you knowing.”

“No, from now on, he won’t.”

“Alright.”

I started to get tired both in mind and in body. The warmth of the car didn’t dry my hair or clothes, but it was a good feeling to sit there. Half an hour later, when I almost dozed off, the car stopped. I looked out of the window and yes. That’s exactly what I imagined for someone like Mycroft.

 _What a fucking show off._ A two story, cute, **GIANT** house. For one single man.

We got out without a word; it wasn’t raining anymore. With a groan, I rubbed my face. I could fall asleep in a second right there.

“Follow me”, Mycroft walked to the entrance and I did as he told me.

“Do you actually even have a place I could sleep at?” I moaned.

“Of course I do.”

“Why, you have friends coming over for the weekend?”

He shot me a look above his shoulder and I snickered. _Friends. Barely._

“I thought it might come in handy. Some day.”

He unlocked the door and let me go forward into a giant hall. As I looked around I carefully made sure my mouth stayed closed. _How the fuck can someone live here alone?_

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he closed the door and I looked at him.

“Starving.”

I started to sink back into that fleeting feeling. The Scotch was still at work in me. I was still a little tipsy and I didn’t care if I stepped too much into Mycroft’s personal space, but I thought to myself, _he’d let me know if I crossed the line anyway…_

“Well. That’s unfortunate. Let’s order something.”

“Why?”

“Because I barely have things in the fridge.”

_“Why?”_

“I’m rarely at home.”

“Isn’t eating the first thing you do when you get home? What do you even _do?_ ” My eyebrows ran up on my forehead. He seemed displeased. “Do you even _enjoy_ your life?”

“Life isn’t about enjoying ourselves.”

_Wow. That sounded **depressing**._

“Sometimes it’s not, sometimes it has to be.”

“Eating is just a necessary evil.”

“ **Is it?** _Oh my God_ that’s a horrible thing to say.” I put my hands on my heart. “ _You **wound** me._ Eating is the best of life. Pizza with triple cheese on top and pineapples and ham… and broccoli with chicken legs…”

“I noticed when you’re under stress, you eat”, he noted as he started to walk to one of the doors. As he opened it, his kitchen was revealed and it looked so _sad **and** empty_ …

“Do you cook?” I looked around. This place seemed so unfriendly to me I wondered if anyone wanted to ever spend more time here than it was absolutely necessary. “Can you cook?”

“I don’t care about it.”

“So you can’t.”

 **Finally!** Something in which I was much better than Mycroft! _Could it be true?!_

“I do more important things.”

“Of course you do. What is eating. It’s just the most basic action of human life.”

“Why does it bother you so much, Elisabeth?” He stepped closer to me and I tilted my head slightly to look in his eyes. I just noticed I kept looking around with a displeased expression. “Do I detect _worry?_ ”

“I find your lack of enjoyment in life alarming.”

“I can enjoy life without thinking of food.”

The texts I sent him earlier today popped up in my head. I blushed. **Deeply.** _Immediately._ He glanced at my cheeks and flashed a predatory grin as his eyes found mine again. I cleared my throat then licked my lower lip which he observed, unmoving.

“I’ll order myself something then. Since you had dinner with her, after all…”

I got my phone out of my pocket and turned away. The moment passed.

I wanted to kiss him, and resisted the urge successfully.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I've put my trust in you ages ago."

I heard him sigh and when I looked up at him I also saw he rolled his eyes. I looked back at my phone.

"I'll also need to go home at some point."

"For what?"

"Do you want me to go to work like this?" Mycroft glanced at me. I still had my hoodie on, under it, I had a band T-shirt. "I don't think it'd be a good idea."

I ordered myself a Hawaiian pizza with triple cheese. I asked for the address and Mycroft told me.

"45 minutes... I'll starve to death", I grumbled to myself as I rubbed my tummy and Mycroft groaned.

"You can at least dry your hair. As I've told you, I don't want you to catch a cold."

I unzipped my hoodie and started to get it off since it was wet as well, then I looked up at him with a surprised expression.

"Do you have a hairdryer?"

"Yes." I giggled. "What's so funny?"

"Oh I don't know. The amount of your hair?" I blinked at him innocently and he narrowed his eyes with a half smile.

“You’re not the first woman to ever set foot in here.” He bypassed me and I turned after him with a rather shocked look on my face. “I’ll show you your room.”

My brain wondered on and on what he was trying to suggest. **_So._** He had no idea what flirting was. But he brought women here before me. I had a feeling they weren't here to discuss business with him. I frowned and walked up the stairs after him and then a thought suddenly dawned on me. **_Holy shit._ ** Maybe he paid for women to be with him? _He paid for sex??!_

Well, why not? It was a possibility. He didn’t really have time for a relationship, after all. If he had no time to eat, he probably had no time for that either. From all the furniture around us – the paintings and the lack of pets –, all screamed he liked and wanted to be alone. But he was a human as well, and humans have needs.

Especially a man.

At least I knew he wasn’t completely innocent.

We reached a corridor and he stopped before a door, which he opened for me. Then he turned to look at me.

“If you need anything, let me know.” I glanced up at him. He was so close to me again. Mycroft examined my face then slipped his hands in his trouser’s pockets. “I’ll be next door to the right, should you need me.”

_I’d **need** you, alright._

“Are there any cameras in this room?”

His eyes momentarily lit up with a certain light.

“No. Why?”

I grinned. Rather evilly.

“Oh, nothing.” I stepped in the room and turned to look at him as I grabbed the door’s handle. My grin became wider. “I just sleep naked. See ya.”

I closed my door in his shocked face and giggled to myself. I really did hope he had no cameras in here, but I’d be cautious. Best if I kept a towel under the covers. I turned to look around and, of course, I was surprised with his taste. It felt like he tried to furnish his home as if it was _old_. If I threw my laptop on the bed, it’d look bizarre. Frankly, it seemed posh to me. Beautiful, but _posh_. But definitely a fitting home for someone who always wears three piece suits. ~~He was so sexy.~~ Ah, whatever. A door was to the left and I found a bathroom. _Perfect._ I have my own little dorm here.

_Wait a moment, that’s actually pretty accurate._

I found many things in the bathroom. Towels were a must, of course, but then – he really _did_ bring women here and they probably stayed for a night or even more as well, judging by the brand new toothbrush on the counter, comb, shampoo, shower gel…

He was one prepared individual. ~~And a control freak.~~

I spent a few minutes drying and combing my hair, which, by the time I was done, looked like a curly mess. I hated how it started to be curly when I didn't dry it right away, so I decided I’d have a shower and I’d wash my hair properly after eating. I have everything here anyway. I checked my social networks on my phone when the bell finally rang and I picked up my wallet, hurrying out of the room.

I found the entrance and grinned at the guy who delivered my food.

"Finally!" I took the box from him and paid with my card. "What took you so long?"

"I'm so sorry, this place is a bit off the map", the man smiled at me and I cocked a brow. "Here, two pancakes for being late."

"Pancakes!" I cried happily. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome. Good night, ma'am."

 _Ma'am?_ Did he think I lived here? I laughed a little and nodded, cheeks still rosy from the Scotch. Everything was funnier now.

"Good night, take care!"

I balanced my pizza with the pancakes on top of it in my left hand, taking my card from him and closing the door with my right. Mycroft just walked down the stairs.

"I'll lock the door now", he said, "and also will set up the alarms. Try not to trigger them.”

“I’ll eat then go to bed.”

It sounded almost like a promise as I didn’t even look at him, bringing the pizza and the pancakes to the kitchen. I switched on the light and looked around, but it was so depressing there I rather walked back out and decided I’d eat in what I’d call a living room… but no, not really. _Diner?_ No… I glanced at the fireplace with the two giant armchairs, then made my way to the left, where the giant table was with – _holy shit, are those_ **_STATUES?!_** He had fucking _STATUES HERE._ I felt like I wandered back to the 15 th century or so. I blinked rapidly at the horses with their riders and then counted **_TWELVE_** chairs around the table. I stopped abruptly. _What the fuck?_

Okay, okay. I admit. I was shocked. But at least, it looked classy. I glanced up at the giant windows and realised Mycroft was right behind me. So as calmly as I could, I forced my eyes away from the statues and the windows as I put my pizza and pancakes down on the table. How can someone be so fucking _posh,_ really? I mean I knew he was wealthy but not **_this_** much. No wonder the poor pizza delivery guy called me ma’am.

I giggled to myself, forgetting for a moment Mycroft still was there. _Ma’am._ ~~Mrs Holmes. I wish…~~ I probably wouldn’t be able to forget it anytime soon. I pulled out a chair – I wondered for a moment if there was **_ANYTHING_** which was _plastic_ here – and sat nicely, getting the pancakes in the plastic bag off of the pizza, then I opened the box and…

“Ahh _yes!_ ” I sighed and immediately picked up a slice and bit into it.

“Worth waiting?” Mycroft mused, walking next to me and pulling out the other chair next to me to sit down.

I glanced at him as I kept chewing with closed mouth. He was so close to me again… and he so fitted into this place. I wondered how I looked like to him here, in his own personal little heaven. Probably extremely out of the place… to the right of him, the statues and expensive curtains and all, and to the left, me, eating a pizza out of a box in a popular band T-shirt.

We seemed to be so far away from each other.

“Definitely”, I answered when I swallowed the bite, then pushed the box a little towards him. “Eat and you’ll see.”

He shook his head and I shrugged, taking another bite from my slice. His put his elbows on the table, fingers laced before his lips. It seemed to me he was deep in thought as he kept watching me and I decided not to bother him, so as I ate, we kept watching each other. I wondered how long would it take to catch Sherrinford. For how long would I be a guest here? If he could stay hidden for years, it wouldn’t be a problem for him to vanish again, right? I slightly frowned. So, I needed to think like I’d stay here for a long while. I looked at the statues again and Mycroft followed my glance.

“What do you think?” He asked and I looked back at him.

Our eyes met and for some reason I felt like he was interested in my reply. I shrugged again and swallowed a bite before I replied.

“I feel like I’m a time traveller and went back a few hundred years… or I’m at a museum, but it’s really cool. I like it.”

Mycroft smiled faintly and I wondered if my words hurt him in any way, even if just a little. Even if I was a little bit rude, he didn’t show.

“Since it’s Saturday tomorrow, you won’t have to get up early, but on Monday, you’ll need to be ready to go at 7.” I nodded, since I was chewing again. “We can go to your home in the morning.”

I quickly swallowed. _NO WAY!_

“No.” He cocked a brow at me questioningly. “I mean, you’re not coming up to my home with me.”

“Why not?”

“Have you looked around here? I’d feel so embarrassed if you ever set foot in my apartment.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

“Let me decide that.”

I finished another slice. Only one was left. I offered it to him for the last time but Mycroft shook his head once more. He cocked a brow at it when I picked it up.

“So. An entire pizza.”

“I worked out before I went to have alcohol. These things tend to make someone hungry…”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You do know you’re not allowed to go out of here, right?” I took a deep breath to argue when I realised he was right. It probably would be very, extremely risky. Especially alone. So I, in the end, nodded. Mycroft looked surprised. “No argument? How come?”

“I believe you”, I mumbled between two bites. “And if you say Sherrinford is very dangerous, then I’ll listen to you.”

His blue eyes narrowed just slightly before he let his hands down and he crossed his arms on the table as he pulled himself closer to it.

“Do you want to see his file?”

I shook my head.

“Why?”

“You’ll tell me what I need to know. In time.”

He blinked at me a few times like a confused owl.

“Where does this sudden trust come from?”

I shrugged and I wondered for a moment as well.

“Sudden? I’ve put my trust in you ages ago.”

I bit the last bit of my pizza then leaned back with a sigh. I glanced at the pancakes with narrowed eyes and wondered if I had some space for them too. I held back a yawn before I pushed myself forward and closed the pizza box, placing the plastic bag on top of it with the pancakes. I glanced at Mycroft – his face betrayed only for a moment my words touched him a little –, then I picked out one of the rolled up pancakes and bit into it.

“Mmm, Heaven!” I sighed with a smile. It had nutella in. I offered the other to Mycroft, but he shook his head again. “Ah, it’s okay, more for me.”

“You should drink some water or you’ll get a headache tomorrow.”

“I’ll get a mug.” I quickly devoured both of the pancakes and leaned back in the chair with a smile. As I looked at him, I could’ve sworn he looked back at me differently. “There is one thing I don’t like though.”

“And what would that be?”

“The kitchen.”

“You really took my kitchen to your heart…”

“Yes, I did. It’s empty. And I’ll change that.”

“Will you?” His eyebrows ran up on his forehead. “What do you mean ‘change’?”

“It is barely used and the fridge is empty.” I got my phone out from my pocket. “So… I’ll fill up the fridge and I’ll cook tomorrow.”

“That’s absolutely unnecessary…”

“Is it?” I glanced up at him from my phone. “Is it, really? When did someone cook in there?” This time, he was the one who shrugged. “Don’t you want to eat freshly made food?”

“Do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for the best in town?”

“What makes you think what they give you is the best?” I was looking at my phone again but I heard him sigh. “So I need to know what do you dislike in food.”

“I’m fine with anything.”

“Then why do you go to the best restaurants?”

“Elisabeth, stop nagging me about food. I don’t care about it, it’s unimportant.”

“Then why don’t you let me cook for you?”

Maybe it was the way I asked this question… but when my eyes met his I saw incredible softness written on his face. The thought I’d cook for him seemed to finally drive the point home.

“I don’t need you to cook for me.”

“But then what will I do all day? _Really!_ You brought me here to keep me safe and I can’t even–”

“I don’t need you to express grati–”

“But I will!”

“Fine!” He grumbled, then he, surprisingly, laughed. “Fine, if that’s what you want, then do it. But it better be good.”

“I’m a master chef.”

“We’ll see.”

 **Oh fuck.** Okay. I wanted to cook _until now._ Now… I started to get slightly anxious about it. What do I even cook for _him?_

“And you’ll have to eat it!” I almost demanded and he groaned. “I mean it!”

“Fine.”

Finally. I leaned back in the chair again and started to tap on the screen, putting various veggies, fruits and other foods in a virtual cart. I didn’t realise he still was observing me.

“I have a room where you can work out, if you want to”, he said and I nodded when I looked at him.

“That’d be great. Though…” I frowned slightly and touched my side. “I don’t think my ribs would be happy about it.”

At his cocked brow I sighed and lifted my shirt so he could see the black and deep blue bruises all over my side. Then I regretted at the speed of light I showed him this. His face went so dark in a second I was afraid he’d yell at me for going to the gym today.

“And you tried to run away”, he mentioned, his voice much deeper than before, he was almost _growling_.

“Running away is easier than facing certain things.”

“Especially if that ‘certain thing’ is me.”

I blinked, slightly confused, realising my cheeks started to warm up. **NOT NOW!**

“I usually don’t run away from you.”

“You’re always trying, to be honest.”

“No, I’m not…”

_“Elisabeth…”_

We both went silent and stared at each other and I thought _damnit, if he’s going to do this all the time I’ll lose my head._

“I’m not afraid of you.” The way I said it sounded like **even to me** I tried to convince both of us.

“Keep telling that to yourself.” I swallowed and watched him as he got up and walked to the stairs – his hand brushed against my shoulder gently. I immediately felt like he set me on fire. **What was he doing to me?!** “Good night, Elisabeth.”

“Good night”, I mumbled and I stared at my phone which went dark.

I listened to his steps as he walked up the stairs and soon after, they went silent once he entered his room. I started to get up, getting the things from the table to bring them to the kitchen and I kept thinking _oh God, I’ll not survive staying here for long._ He was constant _temptation_. And it started to be even more complicated.

I was jealous, he was jealous. I kept him safe, he kept me safe. I trusted him, he trusted me. And we both knew we got under each other’s skin in seconds but we still kept looking for the other’s company. I wasn’t sure where we were headed, but his constant company will make every day of mine a struggle.

For how long?

I wondered if Heath was safe and what Sherrinford thought now. Where could he be? I ordered the food for tomorrow – they’d deliver it from 10-11 –, and walked back to my room, deciding I wouldn’t have that shower and hairwash right now. I got my shoes off and left them near the door, then I threw my shirt, jeans and socks to the armchair which stood near the bed before I climbed under the duvet.

I was asleep after ten seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished watching Clone. I admit I watched it just because Mark Gatiss was in it. He was absolutely amazing in it!  
> "Hola, DEAD MAN!" :D So different from Mycroft's character. I loved him as Colonel Black. Also the part about the secretaries... :D Too bad they didn't continue it, would love to see him playing a character like that again. <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I certainly _do know_ your attitude will get you in very deep trouble **some day** , Elisabeth.”

"It's just a matter of time, Elisabeth." I eased into the comfortable, warm feeling of the hug. I laid there, on my left side and he was just behind me, his chest against my back, his hot breath against my skin. "It's just a matter of time I find you." I opened my eyes and I felt that uneasy feeling in the pit of my gut. I tried to move, but he held me tight, his arms snaking around my form like a cage and not letting me move. I realised this man, behind me, wasn't Mycroft. And I slightly panicked as I tried to wriggle myself free. "Don't struggle. It'll make it only worse."

He suddenly bit my neck and I realised Sherrinford was very powerful in my dream. With a muffled whine, I tried everything to get my freedom back but nothing worked. He moved his right hand and brought a knife to my cheek, the blade touched my skin and it was as cold as ice. That was when I noticed my arms were tightly tied to my body.

"Soon, this won't be just a dream... if I only could seperate you from him..."

I woke up completely drained the next morning. I found out I've entangled myself in the duvet. I kicked it off of myself, annoyed, dull headache throbbing in my temples, then I got up, checking my phones as I always do. I had a message from Mycroft on my business phone, he sent it at 7.45. How did this man relax? Did he even know what that was?

**Ring me when you're ready to go. - M**

I moaned when I realised it was around 8.30. I quickly got dressed, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and called him.

"Awake at last?" He grumbled, amused. I groaned. "I'm downstairs."

He hung up and I growled to myself as I put my shoes and hoodie on. I left my room and rushed down the stairs, finding him in the hall, dressed in yet another three piece suit, dark blue, long coat and of course, the umbrella. I put on my jacket and felt like he stepped out of an old movie. _God damn it._ I was a bit still sleepy and seeing him felt like a **_dream._**

"Good morning", I mumbled and he nodded with a half smirk.

"Good morning."

He opened the door for me and I wondered why was he in such a good mood today. As we walked to his usual black car which already waited for us, he apologised to the driver who opened the door of the car for me… and it turned out why was he in such a good mood. He was about to humiliate me again.

"I'm sorry, Phil. Elisabeth, apparently, is the Sleeping Beauty."

I felt my cheeks burn as I sat inside but I cocked my head and looked up at Mycroft's smug grin. _I'll wipe the smirk off of your stupid posh face._

"Apparently, **_Lord Holmes_ forgot** to inform the Sleeping Beauty that she should get up at a certain time."

The shocked look he shot me was amusing. His disappearing smile not so. When he sat in the car next to me, he started to tear me apart.

"I was wondering, _what do you think,_ when is 'morning', really?"

"Morning is from 7 to 12 for me."

"But why didn’t you get up earlier, when I told you we'd go early?"

" ** _Normal_** people sleep in during the weekends."

He looked so displeased with my answer I nearly laughed in his face. _Nearly._

"That is _unacceptable_."

"What do you want, should I get up at 6 every day?"

"Why not?"

"Because I’m a normally functioning human being and I used to relax during the weekend?"

"What's relaxing in sleep? Why relax when there's always work to do?"

I stared at him. Did he seriously, honestly look at life like this? That all of it was just **_work, work, work_** and nothing more?

"Have you ever, _just once,_ thought of anything else than work, outside of work?"

Mycroft blinked a few times as he arched his brows.

"Can't say I have. _Lately._ "

That was the moment I realised I barely could imagine him having fun. **_Any_** _fun._ Fine, he went to parties with important people – _ugh,_ **_that_** **wasn't** ’fun’. That one time I was with him was fucking **_boring._** ~~Until I started to shoot people, that is.~~

"So in your free time, do you go to theater?"

"No."

"Cinema?"

"No."

"Cafeteria?"

"No."

"Okay..." I leaned back in the seat and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "What do you do in your free time?"

"I'm reading."

_Good._

"Read what?"

"Newspapers, lately."

**_Not good._ **

"That's..." As I searched for the best word, I rubbed my left throbbing temple as I put my elbow against the car's door. "... _uh_ _._ "

I found an interesting thing which clicked just now. _His kitchen._ I wondered now if he was just as empty and cold inside as his kitchen. Unwelcoming. _I’m perfectly fine without people, leave me alone, thank you very much._ And then... there was me. Stomping in his life and his home. With a strong will to change it. And the most astonishing thing was that **_he let me._** I wondered briefly if I started to change a few things in his head ~~and non-existing heart~~ already. Probably yes, as I seemed important to him and he was also jealous. He wasn't that cold boss anymore. But again, who was he to me? It became even more complicated with me staying at his ~~house~~ manor.

"You forgot to drink water. When I **_explicitly_** **told you** to do so." **There** **.** He started it again. It didn’t take him much time. He searched for things to mock me for. I looked back at him as if I just said _leave me be_ , and he didn’t appreciate it. „How can you even schedule cooking for today when you forget to drink water to prevent a headache?”

„Why don’t you mind your own business?” I asked back and he looked angrier.

„Must I remind you we’re forced to live together for a while? Must I remind you that people who live together have to discuss certain things to run the place they live at smoothly?”

„And why does my hangover bother you in anything you do? **I** do **my** things, _you_ do _yours_. It’s not _your_ head that aches.”

Phil up front snorted as he tried to force back a laugh, while Mycroft’s face darkened even more.

„I agreed that you could cook today and I don’t want you to mess it up.”

„ ** _Mess i–_** seriously sir, do you hear what you’re saying?” I rubbed the bridge of my nose again. _Please Lord, if you do exist, teleport us to my home._ „I’d never mess up cooking.”

„But you could hurt yourself during it.”

I froze. What did he say? Did he say that I… **_was he_** _**worried?**_ All of this whining came from worry which he couldn’t say directly? **Holy shit.** This is where it all came from? The mockings and humiliating? Could it be? He masked his true thoughts with being so fucking rude? _And do I have to pull out every goddamn thought of him with pliers?_

“I won’t hurt myself with cooking.” I looked in his eyes half amused and half shocked. And a wee bit annoyed. “I did it many times already.”

“Most accidents happen during mundane home activities, lots of them in the kitchen.”

He was so fucking stubborn I wanted to jump out of the car all over again. Dear God, if I ended up in the hospital, I’d rather have a chat with Chloe than have a word war with my boss. Who’s not really my boss. **_Arhg!!_**

“So that’s why you’re ordering food or eat at restaurants? You’re afraid you’d burn your pinky?”

Phil laughed. He couldn’t contain it any longer.

“Elisabeth!” The way Mycroft snapped my name made me smile triumphantly.

“Yes?”

“I’m not joking.”

“Then if you so insist and don’t trust me, you can help me with it.”

It was his turn to freeze. He blinked rapidly and I thought for a moment _that’s it, I broke him._ Then, Mycroft leaned back.

“Okay.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I still was shocked ten minutes later when we got out of the car at my apartment. Of course Phil knew even without anyone telling him where I lived.

“Stay here”, I told Mycroft and he cocked a rather amused brow at me. “I’m serious. I can’t get Ninnie to her carrier if you’re coming with me. She’s afraid of strangers.”

“A shy feline, _hmm?_ ” His brow ventured even further up. “Like her owner.”

 **“Sir!”** I rolled my eyes but still blushed as I opened the first door. “Seriously, stay here!”

“Do I have to remind you that I do what I want?”

“Oh, no. I know you by heart”, I grumbled as we walked down the corridor to the lift. We got inside – shit, it was so small for the two of us. His cologne and calm expression… but what he just said to me… did he look at me that way? A _shy_ feline? Did I struck him as **_shy?_** Did he forget the sexts I sent him? I gave him a smug look, and he arched a brow again. _Oh you’ll get it again when I get the chance. I’ll make you squirm and **you** will **blush** when we meet after._ “Fine. Wait outside the door. Just until I get her in the carrier, alright?”

“Alright.”

Compared to his ~~house~~ manor, everything looked so small here. The corridor, the windows, even the doors. I unlocked my home – happy that it wasn’t open already, that might’ve been a problem! – and got inside quickly, leaving Mycroft outside and immediately seeing Ninnie’s bowl was empty. The way she ran to me let me know she was as hungry as Hell. I picked her up quickly.

“Hey honey, I’m so sorry…” I hugged her to myself and she bit my chin not so gently as she growled. “I’m so sorry I forgot about you. Let me get the carrier and we can be on our way, okay? We’ll go on a… sleepover.”

God knew for how long would that sleepover last, but it was accurate. I put her in her carrier and walked back to the entrance to open it for Mycroft. With a sigh, I motioned him to get inside.

“Welcome to my _shy feline_ home.”

Ninnie meowed in the carrier and I put her down, then rushed back in my bedroom to get a few things for myself. I put three sets of complete outfits in plastic bags in the bottom of my suitcase, then packed my favourite pillow, pajamas, slippers, underwear, socks, shirts, shorts and pants... I threw my hairbrush, hygiene stuff (it was near that time of the month anyway), and most importantly, my laptop. And the suitcase was almost full.

When I closed it and pulled the zip to close it, I realised Mycroft was standing in the doorway and was looking around rather curiously. Who I was kidding, he probably saw a part of my room through the CCTV camera just outside anyway, but he still seemed he was interested in my living space. I realised that his lifestyle was fascinating to me, but mine was fascinating to him.

“Okay, I’m all done, we can go.”

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head slightly. “This was fast.”

I gave him a grimace.

“Just because I’m a woman, I don’t take forever like most of us.”

“That’s a delight.”

I walked up to him and he stayed there in the doorway for a few moments, observed my face, then he took a step back and moved out of my way. It seemed to me that it was easier and easier for him to be closer to me as time passed. The usual at least one meter between us started to drop. Rapidly. I put my suitcase next to Ninnie on the floor before I moved to the fridge and decided I’d be back later to empty it. Not many things were inside as I was about to restock it just today; but as the events turned out, it was fine to leave those eggs, butter, milk and beer inside.

I looked at Mycroft again; he seemed so out of place it was almost funny. When he noticed I was looking at him he smiled faintly, cocking his head towards the entrance. I nodded, picking up my suitcase and Ninnie, then he opened the door for us and we left my apartment. I locked the door and we walked to the lift. Which felt even smaller this time. I realised I kept biting my lip and noticed after ten seconds Mycroft kept observing me doing that in the lift’s mirror.

**_Oh my God. It started to be so hot inside._ **

I was glad we got out of there. I put my suitcase in the car’s trunk and we sat back in the car, immediately starting to go back to his place.

“Any news concerning _him?_ ” I asked then, and Mycroft shook his head.

“He’s vanished. And your… _friend…_ vanished as well.”

I swallowed.

“This is all my fault”, I sighed as I leaned back with Ninnie within the carrier in my lap.

“No, don’t blame yourself. You had no idea about his identity. And we can hopefully still fix it.”

“How?”

Mycroft frowned slightly as he looked at me.

“You could try and contact him.”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

“A little. But you’d try doing that from a safe place. Maybe we could try to talk him later today.”

“Okay. Do you think it’d work?”

“I absolutely have no idea.” He sighed. Tired. “I don’t know him and I don’t know how he’d react to that. We’ll have to see.”

Strange. First time he said he had no idea about something.

“I thought you knew everything, sir”, I teased him and his expression immediately changed.

“Don’t you start.”

“Don’t start what?”

I blinked at him innocently and he gave me an annoyed look.

“You’re the one always saying you’re the more clever. So I just thought you really knew everything about everything.”

“I certainly _do know_ your attitude will get you in very deep trouble **some day** , Elisabeth.”

 _He was doing it again. **Fucking Hell.**_ How could he do this to me with one single sentence?! I wondered if he was aware of how my pulse accelerated when he talked to me like this, I wondered if he had the faintest idea how my palms started to sweat… but my pupils’ definitely dilated and he saw that at once. Maybe that was why he kept ordering me to look in his eyes, because he wanted to see my reactions. I swallowed nervously under his intense gaze.

_Speaking of **dilated pupils** …_

“I’m a _very_ slippery little fish, sir. You yourself already saw me get away from dangerous situations many, many times.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly.

“You just haven’t realised it yet… but you already met the best fisherman.”

“I haven’t.”

“You have. He’s just trying to tire you out.”

 _Oh._ Was he saying– **OH! _OH GOD!_** If he was the fisherman and I was the fish, there must’ve been a hook which I bit on. There certainly wasn’t any hook for me to bite on. If anyone was trying to tire out the other, it was definitely me doing it to him.

Or not? Was he right or I was right? I was so entangled in this mess.

“Well that fisherman is naïve if he thinks he can tire me out.”

“Is he?” He sounded entertained. “Every fish gets tired. Especially, as you’ve said, a _little_ one.”

“Do you know when fishermen usually lose a fish?” I cocked a brow at him and smiled. “When they think they have them in their grasp.”

“The best fisherman never lost a fish. That’s why he’s the best.”

I laughed to myself.

_“Yet.”_

I liked this little game. He was teasing and I was teasing and… we both enjoyed it, it seemed. If he never did, he wouldn’t continue it. We stayed silent for a few minutes; I looked down to check Ninnie and she kept staring at Mycroft with wide eyes. Probably in fear.

“Breakfast?”

 _Wow._ **He** offered it. Maybe he saw it on my face that I was hungry?

“We can’t, the delivery will come from 10 to 11.”

He sighed. Long.

“So when will that lunch be ready?”

“An hour after the delivery arrives?”

“Unacceptable.”

“Then we should stop somewhere and you could buy something for yourself.”

“I’m not eating alone.”

**_What the actual—_ **

“I remind you, sir, you eat alone in the office all the time.”

“That’s different. I’m not alone now.”

I cleared my throat. Did he eat alone because I was downstairs in the restaurants and he wasn’t comfortable joining me there or what?!

“So what do you suggest?”

“I’d suggest we stop and I buy two croissants. That’s what you eat every morning anyway, right? I could also get you a latte.”

I blinked at him rapidly and my mind froze. Did he really just offer he’d buy me my ‘usual’ morning croissant and latte?

“Alright, that… sounds good”, I nodded then and he turned to look out of the window.

I saw he wanted to hide a smile he now had on his face.

But he forgot the window acted as a mirror.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwcdsIUfMag  
>  **"So, are you in the right mood to play with me?"**

He really did buy me a croissant and a latte. I devoured the food way before him without making a mess and I was sipping the last of my latte by the time he finished his croissant.

"Thank you for the breakfast", I said then with a smile and he shook his head.

"Don't mention it."

We got back to his ~~house~~ manor and I went up in my room to unpack things. Then I realised I so cleverly left the litter at home. Oh shit. I quickly ordered one online, making sure it’d arrive as soon as possible. I unpacked a bit in the ~~giant~~ empty waredrobe, and left Ninnie – who didn’t really care where she was at the moment – sleeping on my duvet as I ran down when I heard the bell ring downstairs. As I finally arrived, Mycroft already made sure all food I ordered got carried in the kitchen. I started to unpack the bags immediately and was halfway done when he joined me. I glanced at him and he had a certain look on his face.

“You paid for it up front?” He questioned and I nodded. “Hmm.” I grinned to myself. Sneaky as I was, I managed to get all of it done without him knowing. Good. I opened his fridge and started to pack things inside my way. I felt he still watched me. “So, what will we cook for lunch?”

“I don’t know, fancy anything?” I shrugged and turned my back to him as I continued to pack in the fridge. I heard him chuckle at my question. I glanced back at him above my shoulder. He was still watching me. “What?”

“Nothing.” I rolled my eyes – only he knew what he was thinking about anyway – and left some stuff on the counter. Potatoes, onions, chicken breasts and spices. “So what do I do?”

I held back a smile. Because he looked so lost in his own kitchen. Damn this man for being so cute.

“Would you peel the potatoes?”

“Sure.”

I picked up the onions and started to peel those too, then put them in the sink to wash them. Five minutes later, Mycroft hissed. I looked at him, but he showed his back to me.

“What?”

“Nothing”, he grumbled.

I walked up to him and checked what he was doing.

“You’ve cut yourself.” I couldn’t hold back my cheeky grin at that. He kept talking to me about “kitchen accidents” and he’s the one who ends up cutting his hand? This was truly hilarious. Almost could say it was _justice._ “ _Mundane home activity_ , huh?”

“Very funny”, he huffed and finished peeling.

He put the potatoes next to the onions and rinsed the blood off. Yuck. I went after him and gently got a hold of his hand so I could see the wound. He froze when our skins touched, but I was too focused on his injury to notice.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Don’t be ridiculous…”

_“Sir.”_

“I don’t need it. It’s just a little cut.”

**_“Sir!”_ **

“ ** _Fine!_** It’s in there.” He cocked his head at another cabinet. I went and got it, then walked back to him. “This is seriously unnecessary.”

“Would you please stop whining like a child?” Finally, he shut up. I put some antiseptic on his wound – he hissed, _what a baby_ –, then made sure with a band aid that it wouldn’t bleed anymore. My hands still held his as I rubbed the band aid a little down, gently, to make sure it wouldn’t get off, then – then I just realised how warm and soft his hand was. I smiled to myself and let his hand go and looked up at his face. He was watching me, intense. “There you go. Alright. I’ll wash the veggies and the meat then you can continue with chopping up the onions. Just be more careful.”

The look he gave me made me smile, then I turned and did as I just said. I heated up the oven, got a baking sheet out, then put the things in there, and I decided it was too boring. So I picked out a broccoli from the fridge as well.

“You want to add that?” He asked and I looked at him. His eyebrows were high on his forehead.

“You don’t like it?” I asked back and by judging his face, I already knew the answer. “Okay, then I won’t put it in.”

“But if you want…”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I insist…”

“Sir, **_stop._** ”

I tossed the broccoli back in the fridge. Then I started to look for things to spice it up a little.

“Cheese?”

“That’s fine.”

“Garlic?”

“Yes. Will you put everything into it?”

“You’d be surprised what awesome things turn out from putting everything in a pan.” I laughed a little. “Carrots?”

“Yes.”

I brought the cheese, garlic and carrots back to the counter and gave the garlic to Mycroft.

“Three is enough.” I prepared the carrots and then lined up everything nicely. I put the meat in baking paper, put some olive oil, salt, pepper and the garlic on it, then wrapped them up. “Oh yumm. I’m so hungry!” I sighed as I put the other chicken breast in the wrapping paper the same way. I put the baking sheet in the oven and checked the time. “Right. Fourty-five minutes.”

“So this is how you do it? Everything in a baking sheet?”

“What’s wrong with everything?” I smiled and wiped off the counter. “We live once.”

“Fair enough. But some flavours will get lost in there.”

“Have you ever ate something like this?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

Mycroft narrowed his eyes a little.

“I know things.”

I almost snorted as I turned away.

“I’ll be in my room, should you need me!”

I walked up and disappeared behind my door, keeping my back to it for a few minutes after I was inside. Oh God. This is how our complicated relationship will blend into something entirely different. He was _calm_ around me, completely different than when he was at work. I liked this new Mycroft, more than the bully he usually became in the office. But I just couldn’t… how should I let the mean side of him go?

With a sigh, I checked my social pages online, then I saw no one missed me and noticed Sherrinford. I bit my lip and remembered what Mycroft told me, that maybe I could try and contact him. So I clicked on his name and typed a message.

_Hello, Sherrinford. How have you been?_

That sounded decent enough. He wasn’t online, so I started to watch a comedy to get my mind off of things that still needed to be done today. A message popped up. It was Mycroft.

**So that’s what you do in your free time.**

_What do you mean?_

**You go online and talk to people.**

_I only talk to you now._

**How come?**

_Nobody misses me._

**The fools.**

I smiled.

_Why, do you miss me?_

**What do you think?**

I couldn’t believe he was in the next room and he kept talking to me here on this messenger. But, then again, maybe he could tell more of his thoughts if he didn’t say them directly. Maybe it was easier for him.

_For a long time I thought you hated me._

**That’s a wrong thought.**

_But you are always mean with me._

**Am I mean to you now?**

_No. And it makes it even more complicated._

**Makes what complicated?**

_I can’t decide our relationship. I can’t put you anywhere._

**Are you labeling people in your life?**

_Most people do that, yes._

**And where am I standing now?**

_That’s what I don’t know._

**Alright. Where have I been?**

When I didn’t reply for a while, he sent another message for me.

**What about the texts you sent me while I was at the meeting?**

I whined and blushed immediately.

_That was play._

**Was it?**

_Yes._

**Do you know what? Let’s play it again.**

“Jesus **_fucking_** Christ”, I whispered to myself.

_Are you bored, sir?_

**I’m hungry.**

It was obvious he wasn’t talking about food.

_Sir…!_

**Should I put you in the right mood?**

What was he on about? What was he thinking about? He got on my nerves. I checked the time. Half an hour later we’d need to go down and have lunch. Together. I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on eating if we started to… but why would we, anyway? Seriously, what was he on to? Ninnie climbed in my lap when Mycroft sent me a link. I knew it was music, so I plugged in my earphones and started to listen to it. I frowned slightly. It wasn’t the type of music I imagined Mycroft listened to in his free time. Then I heard the lyrics and my heart sank deep. This… was impossible. Did someone hack his messenger and it was someone else sending this to me?

I put Ninnie down from my lap and buried my face in my hands. That five minutes while the song lasted were the hottest five minutes of my entire existence. Why was he doing this to me? And why didn’t he say these into my face? Was he afraid of my reaction? But why? Couldn’t he see how I looked at him? How I reacted to him?

When I looked at the screen again, I saw he sent a message.

**So, are you in the right mood to play with me?**

I cocked a brow. Alright. If he so wanted this to go like this… he’d get what he wanted. We’ll see who squirms more during lunch. I started the song again, so I’d stay in the mood and threw out the thought I was messaging my boss.

_Do you think I wouldn’t be able to do the same to you?_

**Corrupting me? I wonder how you’d do it.**

_I’d never let you close enough to make our games reality. In the end, it’d be me who’d endure it… and it’d crush you._

**Really? You barely bear the way I look at you.**

That’s it. I’ll destroy him.

_And you? You freeze when I touch you. Even today when I put a band aid on your oh-so-huge wound, you couldn’t move for minutes._

**What makes you think I was not holding myself back not to make every inch of you mine right there?**

_Holy fucki— so,_ **here’s** how my plan backfires.

_Ha. I don’t even need to corrupt you. You corrupt yourself._

**If you just suspected what I’d do to you, you’d flee from me at the speed of light.**

_I’m not exactly the running away type. I think you know that already._

**More than you’d think. And this is my advantage.**

I narrowed my eyes. He got me so worked up I had to release some of this stress. I was so bad. And I enjoyed it!

_Do you know what’s my advantage?_

**Mouthing back?**

_Oh, there’s a whole other things I can use my mouth for._

He stayed silent for a few minutes and I laughed quietly to myself.

**Tell me.**

_I’d peck your lips and chin, then I’d nibble and bite your neck…_

**…yes?**

_Then I’d stop._

**Cruel!**

I laughed again and checked the time.

_I have to go down to put cheese on the top of the chicken._

I didn’t wait for his reply, I closed my laptop instead and ran down. I tried not to think of what we messaged about, but it was incredibly hard. Especially when I heard his footsteps echoing down the hall, reaching the kitchen. I just finished grating cheese on top of the chicken and put it back in the oven for ten more minutes when I turned around and looked at him. I smiled. He mirrored it.

It was really just play we both enjoyed.

We got ready to eat and sat in front of one another.

“It’s good”, he said then and I smiled.

“You gave your blood for this meal. You might as well enjoy it.”

I laughed at his expression and he cocked a brow as he continued eating. I watched him. It seemed he was deep in thought and looked up at me often, just to check if I was still watching him. It was truly an interesting game to play. How hard it would be to pretend there was nothing when in fact I really wanted to tear his waistcoat off of him? I smirked. What would be even better if I continued it as he was trying to do ordinary things. Would he be mad? What would he say? Would he reply? Well, if I never start, I’ll never know. So I gathered my courage.

“Do you know what’s the one thing I’ve been wanting to do in the past few weeks?” I asked him innocently as I got a piece of potato in my mouth.

I heard him inhale. Our eyes met.

“No, enlighten me.”

“I want to tear that waistcoat off of you. And the shirt.”

I tilted my head and cut a piece from my chicken breast, so I didn’t see his expression right away. When I looked up again, his eyes were burning. I saw he was thinking **_did I hear that right?_**

“I’m not sure I’d like you to do that. It’s a very expensive attire.”

“I don’t really care. It always makes me wonder what’s underneath. It’s in the way.”

I watched him swallow, though he had no food in his mouth at the moment.

_“Stop it.”_

I didn’t expect him to back off, but I shrugged.

“Don’t tease a lioness if you don’t want claw marks on yourself.” I got some carrots and smirked. “Which would be on your back if I ever let you close to me.”

“Elisabeth…”

“What’s wrong? Regretting you started this play?”

He finished his lunch and wiped his mouth. I smirked at him, smug, and I was sure I won this round.

“Don’t even tempt me”, he said as he got up, put his plate in the sink and walked back up in his room without another word.

 

Until Monday, we didn’t really have any more interaction. Sherrinford never replied, and as I was getting ready for work, I kept thinking what would happen there today. Other than these teases, Mycroft was decent and I hoped he’d be the same there, too.

No. Boss Mycroft still was annoyed with everything I couldn’t do properly and on time, and he tried to get under my skin all over again, but for some reason, I didn’t take it as seriously as before. I checked my social networks on my computer, and he messaged me there.

**Want to get a latte for yourself?**

_Later, sir, thank you._

**Get me one, too. Without sugar.**

_Alright, sir. After 10._

**Good.**

Then _lo behold_ , at ten o’clock, **Old Hag returned**.

“Good morning, is Mycroft inside?” She asked me and I smirked up at her as sweetly as I could.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’ll ask him if he’s available right now.”

“He’s always available if I visit him.”

_Is he? Oh you… I’ll make sure he’s busy._

I typed him a message.

_Are you free now, sir?_

**Yes. Why?**

_Lady Smallwood is here._

**Tell her to come in. I’ll keep an eye on this screen, though. Tell me when you’ve finished the e-mails and go for that coffee.**

_Alright._

“You can go right in”, I glanced up at the woman and she nodded, walked to the door and entered.

Then I launched myself at my keyboard.

_You’re begging me to stop, but I won’t and you know that. I keep your hands on my hips and I never let them wander as my lips are ghosting over yours, I can feel your warm breath on my skin and the way you moan as I gently slip my left knee between your legs makes me wet. I want you, there and then, but teasing you is much more better than to have you make love to me. We have a lot of time. The tip of our noses touch and I giggle, then I move my hands up your chest as my knee rubs against your awakening length. I start to unbutton your waistcoat, slow, button by button…_

When I sent it to him, I started to laugh to myself. He said he’d keep an eye on his laptop. And he did. He typed a reply.

**Damn it, Elisabeth, not now!**

I laughed to myself again. Not now? That’s an invitation to send more.

_I reach under your – now unbuttoned – waistcoat and slip it off of your form. As I bring my hands back on your chest, my knee continues rubbing you, and both of my hands find your nipples. I lean up close and bite your left earlobe, then I start nibbling on your neck just to hear you moan again._

He didn’t reply this time, but Lady Smallwood came out of his office. As she closed the door, I smirked, triumphant. Could he concentrate on both of us? Probably hardly.

“Could you tell me when is he less busy?” She asked me as she stopped before my desk and I smiled.

“Less busy… for what?”

“For a dinner.”

I smiled even wider as I got my planner out of my bag. I checked the week, and the next, and the next.

“I’m terribly sorry ma’am, he already has dinner with someone every day.”

“Who?”

_“Me.”_

She stared at me and it felt so **GOOD!** She had no idea I was living with him now and she also had no idea I decided I’d cook for him every evening from now on, to which he agreed. This way I cleverly shooed Lady Smallwood out of the way. And even if Mycroft noticed my plan, he never sabotaged it.

His office’s door opened. I didn’t care.

“Excuse me?” She whispered. “What does that mean?”

“It means, **_obviously,_** that he’ll have his dinners with me.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Why would he be interested in you?”

“Lady Smallwood, you wound me”, I leaned back in my seat with a sigh. “But, just for the record, what makes _you_ think he’d be interested in _you_?”

“He’s been knowing me for years!”

“Really? Interesting. I’ve spent more time with him than you in years. What about that?”

“Elisabeth”, Mycroft said and we both looked at him.

“Yes?” We both asked and he narrowed his eyes.

“Stop. Both of you.”

Lady Smallwood cocked her head up and left without a word. Mycroft, on the other hand, motioned me to go in his office.

I prepared for the worst. But I’d fight him, this time. If I couldn’t date anyone and we had this game… then the same rules applied to him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the ideas, attenti! Most of this is your creation, I just wrote it down. ;) <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Not you. **_Her._** ”

I walked in his office after him and closed his door. I could manage a poker face, though inside I was throwing a party at how I managed to get the Old Hag out of the way. When I turned to look at Mycroft, he already walked behind his desk and sat.

"Sit", he told me and I walked over to his desk like a triumphant goddess, nose held high. I admit, I was a bit cocky. The way he looked at me made me slightly less confident. When I sat down, I noticed a pen and a paper on his desk. _Oh no, that's a bad sign._ "Just what were you thinking?" He asked as he put his lower arms on the desk, fingers entwined.

"Nothing, really. You already promised me you wouldn't leave me in your manor alone. And I just told her that."

I leaned back and he arched a brow.

"You _humiliated_ her."

 _"Did I?"_ I frowned and crossed my arms under my breasts, knowing this way they showed themselves a bit more. Just making another point I was a better choice than her. I faintly registered that I started to play this game a bit dirty, but I abused whatever power I had in it at this point, just like Mycroft did. And yes, as he blinked, I saw he took a look at my bosom. And it made me grin. He was a man, after all. "I haven't noticed."

"No?" His voice dangerously low. "Asking her what choice she had with me wasn't humiliating?"

"She asked me first."

"I don't care who started it. I want you to be _better._ "

Okay. He had a point. Then I remembered how he asked Scott to go in his office and how he sabotaged everything, all the time.

"I'm not really into fair play anymore", I shrugged and his eyes darkened.

"That, I noticed", he leaned back, his hands on his thighs and he took a look at his laptop’s screen. „But you really have to stop doing this while we’re working.”

„Really? Should I send these to you when you’re dating with that…”  ** ~~Old Hag!~~**  „…Lady Smallwood?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, he knew I wanted to say something else entirely than her name.

„I wouldn’t take her on a date. You know that.”

„No, I don’t.”

„Elisabeth…” He sighed deeply.

I rolled my eyes and glanced at the ceiling.

„What? You _don’t even know_ **what** a **_date_** is, how do you know you wouldn’t take her on one?”

„I’m not taking her anywhere. I’d like to spend _more time_ with **you**.”

I looked back at him. He was watching my reactions and I hid everything carefully from my face. _You’re not winning this. Not this time._

„Good. That was I was thinking.”

His eyes widened just slightly and I noticed his pupils’ dilated. I’ve got you. I won.

„Excellent. Then we can get to work. I saw you noticed the pen and the paper. You’ll write both pages full with the following sentence:  _’I will not distract my boss at the office anymore.’_ ”

„Will I?” I mused with a smile. „ _Really?_ I don’t think so.”

I think he liked better when I was scared shitless from him. This new attitude probably confused him. After all, he wasn’t used to people mouthing back at him. I remembered what I wrote to him when he mentioned mouthing back and I smirked even more triumphantly, hoping the same dirty thought crossed his mind in this moment.

„Do you want to spend your entire afternoon standing in the corner?” He growled at me, low.

My dream-Mycroft popped up in my head. _Oh God. Orgasm denial, corner time._

„It’d be certainly less boring than being outside and _massaging_ the keys on my keyboard.” His lips twitched. He wanted to smile. „Speaking of massaging, I’m sure I’d find _something_ in this room which’d _need it._ ”

„Stop it!”

I laughed quietly at his angry expression. **Corrupting me,** he said. _He’d enjoy it,_ he said. I’m certainly enjoying making _him_ squirm. I wondered where were his limits. I was sure I’d find them soon if I countinued pushing his right buttons.

„And, as I’ve mentioned before, I can use my mouth for much more better things than mouthing back…”

„One more word and I’ll put you over my knees.”

The threat was so sudden I was sure he was just thinking that and it accidentally slipped. My eyes widened slightly from the shock. Then I blushed, because I remembered those texts I sent him when he was at the meeting. Now, I could already see myself lying over his knees, I could see him lifting my skirt up and yanking my panties down as I’m kicking and flailing and whining no, I could see him not caring about it as he’s delivering the first but far not last hard smack on my tingling, trembling, deserving little…

„Fine”, I sighed, deciding he won this round, because I wasn’t ready to start a Monday like this.

I pulled my chair closer and got the pen in my hand, then started writing. But I let my mind wander back to the pictures that I imagined a second ago and I felt I’d have difficulties later today. I’ll most certainly have a shortcut to the restroom. I needed _release_. This was too much for me. I noticed though he didn’t move, he was probably taken aback by my reaction. Maybe he expected me to play along. I wondered, if we had this talk at his home, maybe I would’ve let him do it? **Oh God.** Maybe _yes._ If he put me over his knees in his armchair… I imagined a glorious aftermath sex while he still sat in that huge chair. I’d totally go down on him, then ride him until he begged for mercy or I couldn’t move anymore. Gosh I’d ruin his clothes and his fancy chair. And him. **Over and over _again._**

No matter what I did, the pictures just kept flooding in my head and I got so desperately _horny._ Oh fuck it. I threw caution and reason to the wind. I finished writing both pages of the paper full and I put the pen down, looking up at him.

„Good girl”, he took the paper and the pen from me and checked what I wrote. Then he gasped and I smirked triumphantly. Wasn’t that ’good girl’ said a bit too soon? „Elisabeth?”

„Yes?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently at him.

„Are you testing me now? Because I’m an inch away from chastising you as if you were a naughty little girl.”

„Why, what’s on the paper?” I mimicked I was scared and leaned forward. „Oh no, did I make a mistake?”

He looked up at me again and I saw he was thinking what he should do about me right now. Then he tore the paper to pieces and threw them in his bin.

„Bring me a latte”, was all he said and he turned back to his laptop.

 **Oh no!** It was his turn to turn me down! And I put a lot of energy into writing  _’I will distract my boss in the office with dirty texts.’_ I sighed and got up, leaving his office. As I walked down the stairs instead of the lift just to take more time with it, my business phone buzzed. With a frown, I got it in my hand and checked the messages. I read what Mycroft wrote.

**You are a tease and you will regret it. I will use everything I have at my disposal to destroy whatever illusions you have about you having the upper hand. I will tame you. You are mine, and you will obey me while we’re in this building.**

My heart nearly broke my ribcage and I blushed at the speed of light. I was glad no one was near me.

_You do know sir that I do not take orders and I’m not scared of you._

**You will be, if you continue doing this.**

_Maybe I want to be afraid._

**Do you? I see you still haven’t got our lattes. Get to it.**

I glanced up and found a camera in the corner and I rolled my eyes.

_Sir, don’t you have a better thing to do than spying after me?_

**I’m not spying after you.**

_Then what do you call this?_

**I’m watching you to make sure you’re safe.**

I felt strange warmth around my chest. I smiled instinctively. This was… okay. If he put it like this, it didn’t sound so bad. Until now I felt like this was just creepy. Now it seemed almost acceptable. After all, Sherrinford was running wild. I walked down to the restaurants and ordered two lattes, then I started to walk back up. Interesting how quickly my mood changed when I talked to him. I walke back in his office and put the latte before him, then I turned and started to walk out.

“Elisabeth?” Mycroft murmured and I turned my head to look at him with a ‘hmm’. He then smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, I nodded and walked back to my desk.

After lunch a group of people came to our floor. Lady Smallwood was amoung them. She came to Mycroft’s door and smiled at me, smug, the people following her like good little dogs. I smiled at them sweetly, thinking they’ll probably get a piece of Mycroft’s mind for bothering him when he was working.

Fifteen minutes later all of them walked out, including my boss, who seemed he had that usual frozen mask on his face. I immediately knew something was wrong. They headed to my desk.

“Ms Lone, please, come with me”, one of the men told me.

I looked at Mycroft, questioningly and he nodded a little. I stood and followed the man who walked in Mycroft’s office. He closed the door behind us.

“I am Doctor Wing. Please be kind and show me the injuries you’ve had a few weeks ago.”

 ** _Shit._** Of course. I saw through it immediately. The Old Hag probably knew I had a rendezvous with a group of bad guys and she probably knew I agreed to deal with them if my injuries are healed. I swallowed thickly. Shit, _shit, **shit.**_ As a matter of fact, I healed up nicely by now. I moved my blouse off of my shoulder to show the scar of the gunshot, then showed the doctor the other on my thigh. He examined it and gently poked them to see if they were sensitive. They weren’t. Then I showed him my side, which was slightly still light green and yellow coloured, but it wasn’t sensitive either. Okay. Maybe I just played the tough lass a little. But I was actually fine.

“Please, come with me”, he said and I fixed my attire, then we joined the other people. Mycroft looked in my eyes and I shrugged only just a little. He pressed his lips together. I knew he already knew what would be the verdict, and he didn’t like it. “Ms Lone is in the perfect condition to do the mission”, the doctor then said when everyone looked at him.

“Wonderful”, Old Hag smiled at me and all I could think of _how can be someone’s face so wrinkly?!_ “Then I believe we can all expect it to happen **_very soon._** ”

“We need a few more weeks”, Mycroft interrupted and I looked at him with widened eyes. Oh no. “Can’t go on a mission like that unprepared, am I right? That’d be foolish.”

“I was told Ms Lone has the perfect improvisation skills. Why shouldn’t we do it as soon as possible?” Old Hag argued.

**_Oh shit._ **

“I believe I can decide when this needs to be done.”

Mycroft’s reply was so dry I was sure Old Hag would crumble because of it. Instead, she tilted her head and her voice dropped with venom.

“Perhaps it’d be wiser to do this urgently, as it is a matter of national importance. It’s curious _why_ _I have to_ **remind** **_you_** , Mr Holmes.”

 **Whoops.** She was right.

“Do **_I_** get a say in this?” I questioned and the entire group stared at me. “After all, it’s me who goes to battle.”

“No, I’m afraid **_we_** have to discuss this.” Old Hag smiled even more devilishly at me. “After all, it is us, the _clever_ ones, who employ you.”

“Yes, and it is **_me_** dying on the front line if we’re rushing something”, I smiled back. “Or worse, I get captured and tortured for information. But **_why_** would _you_ **care** , **really?** I’m not important, and I am in your way, am I right?”

At this, her cheeks turned as red as her lipstick.   

“Of course you’re not in my way…” She chuckled, but the way she reacted told me everything I needed to know. **_You cunning bitch._** _You want to put me out of the picture. Maybe you even hope I die there._ “But it is truly important that we…”

“Let _me_ and _Elisabeth_ decide this”, Mycroft raised his voice and the Old Hag smiled at him gratefully, thinking he thought of her, but I knew better and I grinned like an idiot.

“Thank you, Mycr…”

Mycroft shot her a deadly look and interrupted her in his coldest tone.

“Not you. **_Her._** ”

The silence stretched long and I kept grinning. He backed me up. In a delicate situation, he chose me. That was all I needed. If it was even possible, Old Hag blushed even deeper. Now I wanted to ask Mycroft – who humiliated her more? Me, when only the three of us were present when I told her to piss off, or him, as he did it in front of a bunch of other people?

“I must kindly ask you to leave, we have a lot of work to do”, Mycroft told the group and they immediately did as they were told, except the Old Hag, who still stared at him with a befuddled expression.

“Are you serious?” She asked. “It’s truly intriguing. I thought I knew you. I thought you knew the risks.”

Mycroft slightly narrowed his eyes and put on his coldest mask again.

“What makes you think you know me?” Came the quiet question as he walked slowly towards me. “And I know the risks very well. I’m not letting my best agent die, no matter how badly you want it.” He bypassed both of us and opened his door. “Ms Lone, and I call you like this lest she thinks I’m talking to her”, he shot a cold look at Old Hag, “would you please come in so we can talk about the details?”

I still grinned and nodded.

“Certainly, sir.”

As I walked over to him I could see a vicious snarl from the corner of my eyes on the Old Hag’s face. I thought we were not over yet. She wouldn’t just simply swallow this. I walked to the chair and sat as I heard Mycroft closed the door behind us. He sighed, deeply, as he walked over to me.

“This changes a lot of things”, he mumbled to himself as he closed his laptop and leaned back in his seat. He put an elbow on the armrest of his chair and touched his lips with his index finger as he kept looking at me. He stayed like this for a few minutes and I didn’t want to interrupt his chain of thoughts. “We’re forced to move.”

I arched a brow and couldn’t get rid of the smile.

“If this was chess, we probably killed the Queen now. Mercilessly slaughtered. It felt good.”

Mycroft chuckled, but only for a moment.

“You’re not taking this seriously, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“If I cried over the fact I am forced to go and get shot again, why would that be good for me? It is as it is. I’ll deal with it.”

Interesting. Where was the boss-secretary feeling I had when I was in this room earlier today? Where was that playful teasing between us, which’d make our relationship something else entirely? What was this, now? What were we? Comrades? **Comrades.** On a battlefield. With enemies all around us.

“I’m often fascinated by the strength of your soul”, he mused quietly. He tilted his head as he examined me. I arched my brows and wondered what could be going on in his head. How could he see me? Could he put me in any category? I wondered… “I hope I can prevent it from getting… ruined.”

“Ruined? How?”

“You were right. You’re taking a lot of risks. Getting killed is not as bad as being captured; torture can break the soul and the mind. And I do not want that to happen to you.”

“Then maybe you could put that ring on my finger”, I smiled faintly and his eyes flashed with a certain light.

“Would you like to be Mrs Holmes again?”

I smiled faintly. _Big fat_ **YES.** I wanted to be. But maybe, some day, _for real._ Not as a pretender, but as real Mrs Holmes. _Elisabeth Holmes._ I still really liked the way it sounded. I was a bit worried he’d read that out of my face.

“ _Maybe._ ”

He sighed and kept looking at me in that same way.

“I don’t want you to do this again”, Mycroft said quietly. “It could go terribly wrong.”

“It won’t.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

I smiled and told him the same thing he sent me in text.

“You’ll be watching me to make sure I’m safe.”

I saw how he wiped all the emotions off of his face. But he couldn’t hide the way his eyes replied to my words. His eyes looked desperate and helpless and hurting but also so proud and brave and… and loving. I felt my heart clench. Could it be…? I shooed the thought out of my head. No. Obviously not. He’s not capable of doing _that_. Impossible.

“We really do have to work out a plan. I don’t want it to go that bad. I’ll give you the ring, but you have to promise me you won’t have to use it.”

I laughed quietly. Promise him I won’t have to use it? How even could I? It wasn’t like I controlled the minds of people and it wasn’t like the bad ones would jump in the way of my bullets so I wouldn’t have to use it.

“If I don’t need it, I won’t use it. Promise.”

His expression darkened. Because we both knew things could go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do send me as many comments as you'd like, I love to read them! <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Wouldn’t it be easier to just come over?”

Mycroft wasn't in playful mood for the next few days. Every time I tried to tease him, he refused to reply. I was pouting about it, day and night. I finally found something I could have fun with and he took it from me. Basically, he took himself from me. I didn't realise how fond of our games I was until I lost them. Ah well. As I prepared the dinner, I felt him come in the kitchen. Strange. In the near past I started to sense him. Why, I thought, what happened that made me literally _feel him?_

"What's for dinner?" He asked, sighing, as he dropped himself on a chair behind me. I looked back at him and smiled. "I'm starving."

"Are you?" I cocked a brow and stirred the food. "Uncle Ben's sweet and sour with chicken and rice. Is it fine?"

"At the moment _anything_ is fine."

He was pinching the bridge of his nose when I looked at him again. Something must've been bothering him, but I had no idea what.

"What's the matter, boss?"

I smiled down at the food as I finished it. I brought it over to him and fetched plates and cutlery. As he helped himself to some rice, I noticed he looked exhausted.

"I'm working on your mission."

I arched my brows. Was he? Why? Why didn't he tell me? Damn it, he was so used to do everything alone he wouldn't even give me some info about it?

"And?" I asked then, deciding I wouldn't whine about the fact he should've told me about it.

"I have the map of the place. I can access the cameras. Should be easy. But I want you to stay completely hidden, and I can't figure out..."

A tired sigh. He dug his fork with a pouty expression in his food while he put his elbow next to his plate and dropped his chin in his hand. I ate mine happily and was about to get another plate for myself.

"What about air vents? Classic, predictable, but could work", I offered as I started to eat my second plate.

Mycroft looked up at me. His eyes widened slightly and his mouth opened slowly as if he wanted to say something. But he remained silent. When I was halfway through my second plate, I smiled at him.

"Did the operation system inside freeze? Will I have to feed you now?"

Just as I said this, I wanted to do it. I imagined I'd sit in his lap and I'd stuff him like a Christmas turkey. I smiled wider. He always ate quarter of what I put in my belly, but of course, I worked out a lot in his personal little gym — where I loved to spend hours as I kept thinking about us —, and he used his brain power mainly, so I guess it was okay. But still. I wanted to see him eat. Lately he showed the tendency of not eating at all. I was secretly worried.

"That. Is. Genius!" He got to his feet quickly and walked away as he kept talking to himself. "Why didn't I think of this... that's the easiest..."

I sighed. So much for cooking. I'll end up eating it all alone again. When he came back with various papers with him, actually staring into one of them as he entered the kitchen, I groaned.

"Oh no, no, no, no work in the kitchen." I got up and stopped him and he glanced down at me, surprised.

"What did you say?"

"I said: no work in the kitchen."

"But look!"

"No, Mycroft, we eat here."

At this, his expression shifted to the well known you-start-to-annoy-me one.

"I do what I want in my kitchen."

"You looked like you didn't even know you had one until last week, so **_no!_** Food first, then work!"

He frowned down at me just in the moment before I grabbed his arms, turned him around and started to nudge him out towards the living room.

"Elisabeth!" He grumbled and a little, refused to move. "Let me just—"

"No, it's basic etiquette, you should know, when we eat we don't do anything else. I worked a lot with the dinner. I want you to actually _know_ what you're eating."

"Ah, come on!" He stopped and turned and I tripped and nearly fell. He noticed immediately, dropped everything and grabbed my arms to keep me on my feet. I felt redness rose in my cheeks. My brain went into complete excitement – then panic mode. I looked up at him and he was so close like never before. My hands slipped on his arms. He blinked, and his lips curved up. "You're clumsy."

"I'm not", I argued, weakly. His eyelashes were so long. I didn't remember if I noticed it before. Maybe because I really wasn't this close to him. The last time probably was when we were at Andrew's party. "It wasn't me who dropped everything to the floor."

"Well, I had to catch you instead."

"Am I more important than your plans?" I smiled because I knew he'd say no, who or what was I, anyway.

"Of course you are."

It was my turn to have a brain freeze. I blushed deeper and his fingers held me tighter momentarily. He blinked again, slow, and I felt like the time stopped as I watched his lashes move. I couldn't find the words and couldn't think of anything just the fact I wanted to be even closer to him.

"Would you be able to hide in the air vents?"

I sighed. His mind wasn't working like mine. He was a hundred steps ahead of me. I started to let him go and he realised where we stood, so he quickly let my arms go as well and picked up what he dropped.

"Look", he told me again and showed me a paper. I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Fine, I'll eat after you looked at it. Deal?"

"Deal", I huffed and looked at the plans. There was an air vent system through the entire building, in every room. Of course, before the last one, where the plans must be at, had no such thing. So I’d be ready to fight myself through it until the last one. „Good enough, I think.”

„Fourteen men”, Mycroft grumbled and I could feel he was looking at me but I kept staring at the paper. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course.” I shrugged. I was excited about this new task, and I was sure I wouldn’t be able to contain it. But it didn’t really even matter. I was glad to be alive and I was glad I could stop those men from doing bad things, while I helped Mycroft in his work. “Easy-peasy.”

“Elisabeth?” At his question, I looked up at him. He seemed closer to me too, but I didn’t mind, on the contrary. I wished he’d be even closer to me. “I have a bad feeling about this. Please, don’t underestimate this mission. Okay?”

“Do you think there’ll be something which could go wrong?”

“I’m… unsure. I’ll do whatever I can, but that may not be enough. I want you to promise me you’d come out of there if I tell you so.” I stared at him. He knew I didn’t take orders, but this didn’t sound like an order. It was a request. Just as it was with the ring. I swallowed nervously. He really did feel something would go wrong? But _what?_ “Would you do this for me?”

“Of course. I promise.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he put his things on the couch and left me there to walk to the kitchen.

“So, now! Dinner!”

I looked down at the map again and made a mental note that I won’t come out of there without the plans they sent me in for, no matter what happens.

 

As now I became Mycroft’s right hand, the next day we went to see his left one. He brought me with him to see a man named Kurt Horn – fake name of course –, who’d help him with the cameras from another place than Mycroft. I didn’t really understand when they were talking about the details, but I gathered Kurt would be the second line of defence for me. He’d watch the other cameras to make sure I’m not followed by more bad guys.

What was surprising how much he looked like Mycroft. And how much this Kurt tried to get my attention, which he couldn’t acquire because I was more occupied with looking at the various things I could use during the mission. There was a table full with gadgets and weaponry and I was allowed to browse through them. I smiled as I stroked an AK-47, wishing I could take that instead of a small gun, but really, I had no other choice. I had to stay hidden, so my gun had to be quiet.

_What a **shame**._

Shortly after Kurt was dismissed and Mycroft joined me just when I picked up the AK-47. I removed the clip and started to _pew-pew_ around playfully. When I looked at Mycroft’s face, I saw he wanted to smile and needed a lot of effort not to do so.

“Good we have the most mature woman on Earth to carry this task out for us”, he cocked a brow at me and I laughed. I didn’t take him seriously and he seemed fine with it. “You know you’ll have to get a smaller gun for this one?”

“ _Shame._ The bigger the better.” I put the AK-47 down and he snorted.

**“Is it?”**

I looked at him with a playful grin.

“Will you have a gun with yourself?” I asked. He looked slightly confused.

“Why should I?”

“Because you could get in trouble?”

“I don’t think I would.”

“Please have a gun with you.”

This time, it was my turn to request something from him. He looked back at me as if he couldn’t tell if I was just joking or not, but I looked so serious he slipped his hands in his trouser’s pockets and sighed.

“Alright. I’ll have a gun with me.”

I smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t think I’ll use it though.”

“I hope you won’t have to use it. But if the need arises, please do so.”

He stepped closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I’m much better at planning and coordinating than pulling the trigger, Elisabeth.”

“I know. But I _need you,_ so **_please_** pull the trigger if you’re in danger.”

There was a moment of silence as he processed what I’ve just said.

“Nothing bad will happen to me.”

“You said yourself you have a bad feeling about this.”

“That… that’s related to you.”

I frowned slightly.

“Nothing bad will happen to me either. You’ll watch me to make sure I’m safe, remember?”

He blinked and momentarily I saw all those emotions in his eyes that he suppressed with a great care before he looked down on his shoes with a half smile. In his head there must’ve been a mass confusion concerning me. He’s been teasing me and giving me hints, ordering me around, trying to protect me – all of these just didn’t add up. And all the while he had no idea how normal relationships worked, like what is a date. He also had to take care of his own work as well, pretending he wasn’t an important person while he prepared and took care of everything in the background. Like this mission. It must’ve been exhausting.

I wished I could take off some of the burden of his shoulders.

“I’m not a god, Elisabeth.” He said then as he looked back in my eyes, his expression and eyes carefully guarded. “Things might happen in a different way.”

I shook my head and stepped closer to him. _Okay, be brave,_ I thought, then I slipped my arms between his torso and arms and hugged him tight. He froze and I smiled as I hid my face in his chest and inhaled his scent. **Yes.** This felt _good._ And I also could hide my expression and my face could morph into whatever it wanted. My senses ran wild. He was as close as never before and it felt so amazing. I never wanted it to end.

“I know they won’t, because you’re clever.”

I heard Mycroft swallow then he moved. I thought he’d want to push me away and I expected him to do so and my arms loosened around him already when I felt he locked me in the tightest embrace I ever experienced. He ran a hand in my hair and I felt the skin crawled all over my back. This was just too good to be true. I closed my eyes. Was I dreaming?

“That’s what I keep telling myself, too”, he replied and I loved how his voice vibrated under my ear. “But I’m really just a man.”

“Oh stop it”, I mumbled with a smile.

We stayed quiet for a few minutes and all I could think of was that I wanted to stay like this forever.

“No, really, I don’t…”

“Mycroft?” I hummed.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

I smiled when he ran his hand in my hair again and he chuckled quietly.

“You’re so small”, he mentioned in a playful tone after a little time.

“And you smell good”, I replied with a smirk.

“Do I?” I could literally feel he cocked a brow as he used to.

“Maybe I’ll steal your cologne and put some of it on my pillow”, I teased still with a smile.

“Why would you do that?” He chuckled again.

“Because then I’d imagine you’re with me.”

Did I say that? **Uh-oh.** I started to say things he never should know.

“Did you know I’m right there in the next room?” He hummed as he ran his hand down on my spine, then back up to my neck. I shivered. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just come over?”

“I thought about it”, I mumbled and moved my head slightly.

“And why never tried?”

“Because I am afraid you’d make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t make fun of you if you told me you wanted to be with me.”

I swallowed nervously. _Really?_ Maybe I should’ve just spoke my mind to him all the time? I was so confused and embarrassed by my own stupidity.

“I never thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Just to clarify, _what do you think,_ why are you summoned so often in my office?”

At this, I opened my eyes. _What?_

“I… don’t know. You’re giving me so many mixed signals.”

“Mixed signals?” He echoed, not believing me.

“Yes. Once you’re all bossy and mean and in the next you say things like this…”

“Elisabeth”, he said with a sigh, “I don’t want anything else just to be with you.”

 _That’s it. I’m dreaming._ This is the best dream I’ve ever had. **Bad it’ll end soon.**

“Then why are you so mean with me sometimes?”

“Because I can’t handle the frustration that _you **don’t see** it._ ”

I was about to reply when we heard footsteps coming towards the room and we pulled away from each other so quickly as if we never even were that close to each other. I continued browsing the guns with my face flushed deep red, while Mycroft fixed his attire with a grunt and took a few steps back from me. Kurt was back.

“Elisabeth, I think you should take a look at this.”

The man walked up to me and showed me a new tracker device, a hairband, but my head was full with everything Mycroft told me. I was wondering, did he give me any hints before about what he just said or he was just playing a mean game of sorts only he could understand? I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find out the answer just now. I had to think about this, then talk about it more with him. It seemed it was easier for him to open up if he didn’t see me face to face. Like when we exchanged those texts – I didn’t think he’d say them himself personally, but he was able to do it through messages.

I wasn’t sure I should approach this topic with him again before the mission. He was stressed, I was excited about it, and both of us were on to the matter at hand. Then, I’d deal with the ancient bitch. Mercilessly. And then, maybe then, I’d start to work on Mycroft. Because if what he told me was really true, then perhaps we’d have the future I’ve been dreaming about lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *le gasp* But what if she doesn't get a chance to 'work on Mycroft'?  
> *dun dun DUUUN!*


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _"I'm fine!"_  
>  **

He was tapping his phone on the way back to his house, so I kept thinking about the upcoming mission. I didn't have any bad feelings about it like him, I was positive it'd go well. I was sure though that after this, he really won't let me go on any more missions. And personally, if I could spend time in his home with him, then it was alright. _I wouldn't protest._

After we arrived I checked the time and decided I'd prepare lunch. It was nice to have a day off on a Thursday, though he made me get up just as early as usual. I had no idea why, though, but I didn't whine about it. I'll just sleep after lunch as I had no other things to do today, except cooking. I'd just need to prepare myself mentally for tomorrow.

As I started to gather the things I sensed Mycroft near the door. He watched what I was doing.

"Wanna cut your hand again?" I teased with a smile and looked at him with a cocked brow.

I froze momentarily when I saw his expression. He only let me see it for a split second — he probably didn't anticipate I'd look at him now and he let his emotions show —, and he looked so **confused** and _desperate_. I wondered what could go on in his head. About what was he confused about? _Me?_ And why? Maybe I stirred something up in him when I hugged him and he couldn't decide what to do with it? Or maybe — and I wished this was the case — he looked desperate because he wanted to do it again but didn't know how?

When I saw him erase all of it after that split second, I smiled at him. Maybe after the mission I could ask Sherlock about him. Maybe he'd be able to give me a **Mycroft Manual**. He was hard to decipher for me, but I wanted to understand what was going on in his mind. It was clear he had no idea how to flirt, though he did try to seduce... he still was a mystery for me. I remembered what he said and I bit my lower lip as I reached up for a bowl on one of the top shelves.

 _I don't want anything else just to be with you..._ _I can’t handle the frustration that you don’t see it._

Why? How could I possibly see that he wanted to be with me? As I pushed myself up to my tiptoes, I heard him chuckle at the door.

"Ha-ha, _very funny_ ", I grumbled as I tried to reach the bowl but I only managed to push it more inside the cupboard.

I didn't hear his steps. It caught me completely off guard when I felt his chest against my back. My hand and arm froze as he ran his fingers from my shoulder through my upper then lower arm, wrist, hand and fingers before he reached for the bowl easily and brought it down for me. I got back down on my full feet as I lowered my head, my face burnt like the sun. Even if he couldn't say the proper words, he showed he wished to be close to me and even touch me and it set me on fire from the inside out. I felt his cologne again and it only made it worse. I sucked my lower lip between my teeth and turned half to look at him and he was so close — just before he took a step back. **_No!_** _Come back here!_

"Thanks", I said then and he smiled, slipped his hands in his pockets and turned to leave.

"I'll be in my room. I have to do something."

 _Don't go,_ I begged in thought but I only could sigh as I watched him.

"Alright. I'll tell you when the food is ready."

I kept thinking about the possibilities. There were so many ways we could go; I wondered if Sherrinford was caught, would he tell me to go home? Or would he ask me to stay? I couldn't decide. But I was really glad — and I smirked to myself at that thought — that Sherrinford was on the loose at the moment. I finished cooking and sent him a text about it and he was there with me in a few minutes. There was something unusual in his eyes when he looked at me and I wondered what that could be. I had no idea. He remained the ever unsolvable mystery.

"So this time tomorrow, the mission is done", I mumbled after I swallowed a mouthful, "what do you think, what we'll find?"

"I'm unsure", he said and I noticed he barely could eat. _Again._ He kept his eyes on me all the time. "But I won't like it."

"Why?" I asked before I stuffed my mouth again.

He slightly narrowed his eyes as he thought, his chin in his left hand, elbow on the table. He turned his fork around and watched it as it moved in the sauce.

"Have you ever heard of Moriarty?" He asked quietly and looked up at me. I suddenly stopped chewing. Sure I knew about him. I heard his name from other agents back then. "They are whispering he's not dead."

"That's bad news", I brought more food in my mouth.

"Yes. Bad news."

We stayed silent for a few moments, Mycroft watched me as I ate. Then I’ve had enough.

"You don't even know how it tastes like", I noted and he looked up at me again.

"I'm sorry, I'm not that hungry."

"I didn't see you eat breakfast, either."

_"I'm fine."_

**_"Sir..."_ **

**"I'm fine!"**

Something shifted in his gaze. He wasn't in that neutral mood anymore. I upset him? Maybe.

"Eat", I said.

"Or what?" He challenged and my face darkened.

"I'll pour it on your head."

"If you're fool enough to try that, then go right ahead."

 _"Mycroft!"_ I whined his name almost desperately. He seemed surprised. _"Please!"_

"Why are you bothering me with this all the time?" He snapped as he stabbed his food with his fork, pouting.

"Isn't it obvious?" I rolled my eyes after I ate the last of my portion.

"I'd like to hear you say your reason."

He watched me as I leaned back in my seat. I wondered for a moment what should I say and I realised again that I **_sooo_** _hated_ his stupid face.

"I worry about you."

At this, he sighed and — I couldn't believe — he started eating. I watched him as he devoured his own portion slow, all the while watching me. When his plate was empty, he hummed.

"Food slows down the brain."

"Really?" I arched the brow. "Have a nap, then. It'll be better later."

At his expression I nearly laughed because even at the mentioning of 'having a nap' drew horror on his features. It was _complete **blasphemy**_ , it seemed.

"When you're under stress, you eat", he mused as he put his hands together above his plate, both elbows on the table now. "When I'm under stress, I can't eat and can't sleep."

I sighed.

"Why? We have a plan, I can do it. You shouldn't be under stress."

At this, a sad smile appeared on his face as he brought his hands between his plate and mine.

"I worry about you." He echoed my words. His reply was quiet, as if he didn't even want to tell me. He sighed again. "Doesn't matter that I know it's completely, utterly illogical..."

"It is", I nodded.

"But I can't help it. I probably won't calm down until it's over and you're back here, safe and sound."

I looked down at my empty plate and pushed it out of the way. Then I reached for his hands and grabbed them tight. I felt he froze again and I smiled. He was so unused to the touch. His hands were warm and gentle. I rubbed his fingers when they locked around mine.

“Stop worrying”, I looked up at him again. “Everything will be fine.”

_I had no idea how wrong I was._

The next morning I woke up earlier than usual. I got ready – as I’d get dressed in my duty-clothes at the first safe spot, I didn’t need to get in my sneaky black attire. I frowned when I saw my door was open and immediately thought _shit_ when I noticed Ninnie wasn’t in the room. I walked down to search for her and I found Mycroft in the living room’s armchair, in his yesterday’s suit, sleeping, a file next to his feet and my cat in his lap. One of his hand was still on Ninnie. I couldn’t hold back my smile. Ninnie looked up at me and purred and I thought that’s the final reassurance I needed. If even my cat approved, then everything was fine. I walked silently to the kitchen and after a few minutes, I was followed by Ninnie who meowed. It was so loud I heard the armchair creak in the living room and I smiled again. As I grabbed a croissant – because he _magically_ made them reappear every morning –, he walked to the door with the file in his hand.

“It’s early”, he said, voice still sleepy.

“Yes.” I looked at him with a smile. “And you fell asleep in the chair.”

“Someone didn’t let me get up”, he looked at Ninnie with a cocked brow who ran to him with her tail held up high and rubbed her face, then her side against his leg and meowed up at him.

“She usually does that”, I laughed quietly. “It seems she likes you.”

He looked up at me again. I saw he wanted to say something, but instead, he shook his head and sighed, turning, making sure he wouldn’t step on Ninnie.

“I’ll get ready.”

“You better, _Sleeping Beauty_ ”, I teased and I heard him snort.

I watched him as he walked upstairs, followed by my ginger tabby cat. Strange… she was really picky when it came to humans and it seemed she liked both him and Sherlock so easily. _Well._ Maybe Mycroft was right and I really was a bit like my cat.

Thirty-something minutes later he came back in a different set of suit and he looked much more awake than before. Ninnie wasn’t with him.

“You should lock your door. It seems she can open it.”

“She probably heard you come downstairs and wanted to see what are you doing.”

“And are you alright with that?”

“Of course”, I shrugged. “She’s free to do whatever she wants. Unless it’s _vandalism_.”

At this, he frowned slightly.

“No, she really is clever. She ran up twice to your room and came back, so I presume she probably knows where _that’s_ allowed.”

His reply made me frown now. Twice? _Twice??_ How many **_hours_** apart?

“Just for how long you’ve been working?”

My question sounded innocent, but Mycroft got his watch out of his pocket to check it anyway and I knew why. He was trying to distract me from the topic and I immediately started to feel upset.

“We really should get going. The sooner we’re done the better.”

“You visibly barely slept and had no breakfast. _Again._ ” At this, he shot me an annoyed look. He refused to reply. _“Sir.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

**“Sir!”**

**_“I’m fine!”_ **

“You’ll need a clear head for this mission, remember?”

“My head is perfectly clear!”

“How could it be when you’re neglecting your most basic physical needs?!”

“What makes you think _you have a say_ in what am I doing with my time?!”

**“Sir—”**

“ _Enough,_ Elisabeth!”

I stared at him, pouting, angry. He was visibly shaken I stomped into his personal space again and told him what I saw. _No,_ _he’s not getting away with this._ **Not again.** He had dark bags under his eyes. The more I looked at his face the more visible it became how exhausted he was.

“I am upset and angry that you’re doing this to yourself, so _please_ , **just stop it!** ” I stomped angrily to make my point clear. He looked much less angry now. Surprised, even. “We should reschedule the mission for tomorrow.”

“Don’t be ridiculous…”

“I’ve put my life in your hands and you’re not in the state to be—”

“You won’t get shot just because I had slightly less sleep and had no breakfast.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” I spat again angrily. He didn’t want to understand my point. He put all of his effort into silencing my concerns. I saw it, now, that it was him who always looked after people and nobody ever dared to even try to do the same for him. He was so unused to this that he started to fidget with his watch again. “You may as well fall asleep in front of the—”

 **“Enough!”** He shouted at me again. “Everything will be fine! I can do this!”

I crossed my arms. We stared at each other, then I smiled.

“Nobody cared to notice before, am I right?”

This seemed to crawl under his skin. Then he turned away. There it was again, a situation with which he couldn’t do anything. And when he couldn’t do anything, he simply quit. I felt _desperate_. My anger turned to sadness. I walked after him, grabbed his arm, turned him back to me and buried my head in his chest. He let me – he remained, paralyzed, I heard him inhale sharply but he said nothing. I wrapped my arms around him. _That’s it, he’s getting a piece of my mind._

“I care **you idiot,** **_I care,_** and I’m upset that you _don’t see._ You always notice everything, why can’t you see this?” I mumbled in his chest. With a sigh, he moved an arm across my back and his other hand ran in my hair. “Why don’t you want to see?”

I heard him swallow and his fingers stopped moving in my hair momentarily. I wanted to know what he was thinking; what could be going on in his mind? What was the reason he decided he wouldn’t notice if someone was worrying for him?

“Elisabeth”, he said softly, his voice vibrating under my ear again. _“Caring is not an advantage.”_

“ **It’s a goddamn** **advantage,** _you fool_ ”, I hummed in his chest. “Caring about others makes us to try our best, to be the best, to put those important to us in front of ourselves, always. It makes us powerful, strong, we’d fight off armies bare handed. If I have any advantage, then it’s that _I care._ I care about you enough to **come out** of there **_alive_**.”

He stayed silent for long minutes and he rested his hands on me so delicately. When he spoke again, his voice cracked at first.

“ _I…_ I care as well. Just because I said it’s not an advantage, _I care,_ too. But it breaks me to think I’d _lose_ those I care about.” He gave me a few seconds to absorb this. “Do you think I am happy with my unending insomnia or my lack of hunger? Do you think there’s a single moment I don’t worry about you or Sherlock? Then you’re _wrong_.” His fingers ran down my hair again. “And it’s definitely **_not_** an advantage. Yes, it makes me stronger in a sense, but why is it good for me to spend hours with this constant, unbearable stress on my shoulders? Do you think I enjoy this?”

“You’re supposed to be clever and you should know that **this. Will. Be. Fine.** I’ve fought off worse and much more than those I’ll face today. You shouldn’t punish yourself for something which hasn’t even happened yet.”

“But…”

“No buts, Mycroft.”

“Eli—“

“No, **_shut up._** ”

And he did. With a sigh. I felt he wanted to continue this argument, but I really wanted him to think about it. After a while, we pulled away and he checked the time again just to do something else other than looking at my face. I was determined I’d schedule regular eating and sleeping into his days, whether he liked it or not. I smiled when I imagined I’d tuck him in the bed. Oh, I’d totally do that. Any time.

When we arrived at the first safe spot, I changed into my new attire which was just plain black, a little tight clothes and boots. Nothing too flashy. I’ve had two PSS silent pistols with me, I put them in their own holsters which were strapped to my thighs. I checked myself in a mirror as I pinned my hair up and smiled. _It’s going to be fine. I’ll prove it to him._ When I walked out I saw Mycroft already was waiting for me in his own pitch black attire. This looked so strange, coupled with the bulletproof vest, the gun strapped to his right thigh and the simple black beret on his head that I froze when I saw him.

 ** _Jesus fucking Christ._** He couldn’t be possibly sexier. _This was…_ **holy shit.** When he saw my expression he smiled and I caught him checking me out up and down as well.

“Where’s your vest?” He questioned as he placed his black gloved hands behind his back.

 _Oh my fucking God._ I couldn’t find my voice. If by any chance he’s been my trainer back at MI6, I never would’ve left it. I made a strange noise as I tried to gather my thoughts. He tilted his head with a smile. He **knew.** Then he licked his lower lip, slow, sucked it in and let it go again as he kept eye contact. _The bastard. He’s teasing me._

“Elisabeth, are you alright?”

 ** _The things I’d do to you now._** _Oh boy. I’d most definitely tear everything you have on. Even the bulletproof vest._ I cleared my throat. _Come on, voice, come back. **Holy bloody fucking Hell.**_

“I’m fine”, I turned my head away and checked my guns, finally distracting myself. Then I saw his damned stainless steel, pitch black boots and inappropriate thoughts flooded my mind again. I wasn’t ready for this. Even his three pieces were too much for me sometimes, but this?! “And I can’t really climb around in the air vent in a vest.”

“I insist you wear it.” His voice sounded commanding and I looked up at him. His eyes were serious. Coupled with his attire and the commanding tone I was sure I’d do anything and everything to him at once. **_What the Hell?!_** “So put it on. Now.”

“Alright”, I mumbled and I did as I was told.

When I looked back up at him, I saw he looked surprised, but he smiled.

“Come on, let’s meet Kurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Is different good?”  
> 

Kurt looked completely identical to Mycroft. As they talked about the details, leaning over a laptop, I couldn’t do anything but look at Mycroft thinking _this_ would worth it to be a field agent. If I saw Mycroft in clothes like this again, I’d totally run into danger if he asked me to. Maybe because it was very different than his three pieces, or maybe because there was that visible hint that he was **dangerous** – he had a gun just as I requested –, I had no idea why did I find him so _delicious_. I wondered briefly if I ever had the chance to get between the sheets with him, I’d totally ask him to get this outfit on. _Barely for the experience,_ **of course.**

 **Fuck’s sake.** _Sherlock was so right._ I _loved_ danger. I **craved** it. And I knew Mycroft was, indeed, dangerous. It just wasn’t that visible, hidden under those suits.

“So”, Mycroft straightened his back and his eyes found mine. I was still so distracted by his attire. Maybe I should’ve asked him to get his vest over his suit? Kurt fetched his phone and walked away to make a call, so we remained in the room together. Just the two of us. He walked over to me. “We’ll have codenames. Mine’s Antarctica. Yours is Aurora.” I blinked. _Aurora._ I liked it, but I had no idea why he chose it. When I didn’t reply, his lips twitched. I knew he wanted to smile but forced it back. “Elisabeth, focus, would you?”

“Uh, yes…” I shook my head slightly and I looked up at him again. “It’s just… you look so different.”

“Is different good?” He tilted his head slightly, again, looking at me like he was about to hunt me down.

“ **Veeery** **_good_** ”, I mumbled before I could stop myself. Then I blushed at the speed of light. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to… I mean I… _urgh…_ ”

I put my gloved hand over my face and closed my eyes tight. I heard him chuckle.

“Maybe I should put this on more often, so you’ll get used to it.”

I moaned again. There he was, _the teasing bastard._

“You’ll regret this”, I mumbled in my hand.

“Will I?” Mycroft cooed.

 _Oh shit._ There was no denying now I found him attractive. And, even if he tried not to notice it earlier, now he definitely knew. It was so embarrassing.

“What’s Kurt’s codename?”

“Hubble.” I looked up at him with a snort. “I know. His idea. Says he’d watch from above. So why not.”

I shifted from one foot to the other. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. Suddenly, it got real again. I was about to go and kill people. We’d be seperated again. After the past few weeks, I’d be far away from him. How will I react to this? Would I even be able to concentrate on my mission? Worry washed over me, but I didn’t worry for myself. I worried for him.

“Mycroft…” I said, hesitating. He waited. I needed a few moments. “I have a document on my laptop’s desktop.”

 **“No”** , he said firmly. His teasing expression immediately morphed into his icy mask. **“Don’t.”**

“But it’s important.”

“Elisabeth, **don’t.** ”

I swallowed nervously and fidgeted with the vest on me. I wanted to say something else, but I couldn’t find the proper words. Instead, I felt he stepped closer and this time, it was him who pulled me into a hug. It started being gentle and soft, then he held me tight to his chest. I wrapped my arms around him as I did before. I felt his breath on my face.

“You’ll come back to me.” He grumbled in my ear, using his commanding tone. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir”, I smiled, easing into his hold, wishing he’d never let me go. “I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

“Good girl.” He cooed and I blushed again. Then he let me go and got a simple, black hairband out of his vest’s pocket. His hands quickly got it at the base of my bun. I knew it was the one which had a special tracker in it, so I didn’t ask about it. “Just in case.”

“We won’t have to use it”, I smiled up at him and his right hand slipped under my chin.

I looked up at him and he looked so serious I forgot to breathe. I knew he was about to do something – just what exactly, I never could find out, because the next moment Kurt came back to us and Mycroft let me go so quickly as if he never even touched me. I examined the ceiling and crossed my arms on my chest.

Twenty minutes after I got my earpiece connected to Mycroft’s and I set out to the building. The area was rather abandoned, so I had no problems finding a way inside the air vent system. I was as silent as I could as I removed the screws from a panel when suddenly I heard something in my earpiece.

It was _music._ And I knew this song. I recognised it from the first sound of it. As the guitar with the bass and the drum started playing, my hands froze and I stared forward and I started to sing the lyrics along in my head. I couldn’t even imagine why did Mycroft come up with this idea, but I understood quickly.

_I am a small and gentle man, who carries the world upon his shoulders. Kindly lend a helping hand, come over, and hold on to me… and my behaviour is hard to understand, when I'm like a phone with no connection. But I'm still doing all I can, to try and get me some redemption. And I'm knee deep in sinking sand, crying out for your attention. Kindly lend a helping hand, for once defy convention. And hold on to me…_

I had to put my hand on my mouth. Music usually didn’t touch me, I used it as background noise most of the time, but this time, it was **_Mycroft_** who made me listen to this. It was **_him_** who **chose** this song. This song was on the same album as the one I sang at Hill’s afterparty. This meant a few things. Mycroft remembered the lyrics, looked up the song, looked up the album, and he _listened to the rest of it_. Just because I sang that one song. Then he found this one and he could connect with it. I felt tears gathering in my eyes. I muffled a whine. This _couldn’t be_. Was this how he felt every day? _A phone without connection?_ _Crying out for my attention?_ I closed my eyes and remembered how he showed up in the kitchen each time he heard I was there, how he tried to connect but maybe he felt like he couldn’t. It was my fault.

 **Oh God.** I’m a fucking idiot. I fucked all of it up. I should’ve paid more attention to him. I desperately wanted to say something but the words didn’t come. All I could mutter was his codename and he was silent for a few seconds before he replied.

“Are you alright, Aurora?”

It hit me. **Hard.** _Aurora._ His codename was Antarctica, icy, cold, barren, dead, and he gave me this… _Aurora Australis._ The polar light above Antarctica. He named me after that beautiful light in the darkness just above Earth’s coldest place. **_I was his light in the night._**

I couldn’t control myself anymore. He might’ve shown he was nothing else but ice, but he was so much more beneath. I barely scratched his surface, and here he started to open up and it nearly destroyed me. What else will I find there after I’m finished with this mission? As I sobbed I buried my face in my knees and gripped the screwdriver hard.

“Please respond”, he said quietly.

“I’m fine”, I whimpered and I wiped my face. I got back to work and I cleared my throat. “I’m alright. I’ll continue removing the panel.”

“Good. Do hurry up.”

“I’m sorry”, I said as I removed the third screw. He remained silent. I swallowed thickly. “I didn’t know. I had no idea.”

“I know”, he whispered to me. “But you need to. I want you to know. You have to come back.”

I bit my lip hard as I worked with the screwdriver.

“Sir, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Worrying for no reason.”

“I have a reason to worry, Aurora.”

I sighed. I won’t talk him out of this now. I removed the panel and climbed inside. I held back a cough. There may have been an air vent, but the dust was at least a few years old.

“I see you’ve got inside. Good. Turn left, then after a hundred meters, turn right.”

It wasn’t easy on all fours, but I still was fast. I couldn’t talk here, not anymore. They’d probably hear. So I continued going on until he told me to turn. After two more hundred meters and four turns, I saw my first targets. Three of them was in the room and I could take each of them down with both of my silent pistols. This was easy. I went on. Mycroft directed me to the next room. Five was there. It was a little more tricky, but I had good eyes and I nearly never missed. So, eight of the fourteen already was dealt with. Good. As I continued in the next room, I saw two more guards who noticed nothing of what was going on. This seemed too easy for me. I shot them in the head as well and progressed to the next room.

“This is too easy”, I whispered to Mycroft.

“It’s fine. Just get out of there with the info we need.”

“As it is now, I’ll get them in ten minutes.”

I dealt with the rest of the men in the next room and realised this was the last one which had air vents in.

“Get down, carefully”, Mycroft said quietly, “through that door is the last one of the rooms. The laptop should be in there. Get it and we’re finished. I’ll have a chopper waiting for you.”

“Show off”, I grunted as I kicked a similar panel off and I jumped down to the floor, getting my gloves off and putting them in one of my pockets.

“I have visuals.”

“Good”, I waved at the camera with a smile, then walked to the door and tore it open with my gun pointed inside just in case. Then I froze and my eyes widened in horror. There was a glass and behind the glass were two chairs, two men tied up on both of them. As I walked inside the door slammed shut behind me but I didn’t care. I jumped to the glass and tried to break it with the gun but it didn’t shatter. “Scott! Heath!”

Both of them must’ve been starving. They had blood smeared on their faces and tapes muffled them. It’s been ages since I last seen Scott and he lost so much weight he looked like a skeleton. Heath was in better condition, but he was so beaten up his left eye was big and purple. Strangely enough, they were dressed in completely white shirts and black pants, identical.

“What’s happening? I can’t see the last room. Aurora!”

“There’s a bulletproof glass slicing the room in two, on the other side there’s Scott and Heath, both bound and beaten up and…”

“Aurora, leave the area immediately. Now!”

“Mycr…”

**“LEAVE! NOW!”**

His voice wasn’t just commanding, it sounded _terrified_. I knew what I had to do but I just couldn’t leave them there.

 **“GET MOVING!”** He shouted again and I jumped to the door and tried to open it.

“It won’t budge…”

“I have a team going for you just now, hol—”

 _“Antarctica!”_ I whimpered and touched my earpiece. He didn’t reply. I started to shake. “No… no… Mycroft!”

As I waited for him to respond – which didn’t happen –, a door behind Scott and Heath opened. Both of them flinched and tried to get away from the chair and they stared at me in complete, utter horror. I realised I was panting. I grabbed my guns and shot at the glass, but nothing happened. Then I turned and shot at the door’s lock, but it wasn’t useful either. I was locked up. I looked behind the bound men again and the blood froze in my veins.

It was Sherrinford.

“Hello, darling”, he smiled at me and held a Desert Eagle in his right hand and a laptop in his left. He played with the gun as he stepped closer to Scott and Heath. I stopped shaking. If he touches them... if he dares to lay a finger on them... “It’s nice seeing you here. I knew you’d come… even before you did.” He smiled smugly at me and I wanted to wipe the smirk off of his face.

“Let them go”, I demanded and stepped closer to the glass.

“Oh, yes. Letting them go. Definitely.” He tilted his head and put the gun in Scott’s lap who flinched again and let out a whine. Sherrinford opened his laptop and tapped a few things on it. “I have a little game I’d like to play.”

He turned the laptop so I could see and it showed me the room where Mycroft was sitting in front of his own laptop. I started to shake again. He was typing something and talked, but I had no idea what, he probably tried to get in touch with me again. But that wasn’t what made me shake. It was the fact someone was standing behind him with a gun and he didn’t know about it. I touched my earpiece again and tried to contact him but Sherrinford laughed at my efforts.

“No, no, darling, if it was this easy, we wouldn’t be here. You’ll have to choose.”

“Choose what?!” I shouted hysterically at him and his smirk looked disgusting.

“Choose one from the three who stays alive.”

“No…” I whimpered as I took a step back. I put my guns back in their holsters and I was hoping for Mycroft to turn around and see the man with the gun, to no avail. He didn’t move. “No, please… don’t…”

“Choose one or I’ll kill them all!” Sherrinford shouted at me angrily and I buried my face in my hands.

 _I can’t. I can’t._ I shouldn’t, I wasn’t allowed to. How could I? So many thoughts roamed in my head at once. **I can’t choose.** All of them deserved to live. Scott… oh God, Scott. He’s been missing for months by now. Was it Sherrinford’s doing all the time? Did Sherrinford kidnap him to get close to me through him? And Heath… he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Oh no, this wasn’t, couldn’t be happening… why, _why,_ **_why?!_**

“Make up your mind, we don’t have all day”, Sherrinford taunted me and I closed my eyes.

None of them should die. But I knew if I didn't choose one now, Sherrinford will really kill them all.

“I choose Mycroft Holmes.”

There was a moment of silence before Sherrinford laughed again.

“Alright. Fine.”

I looked up at him as he placed the laptop between the chairs, making sure the screen faced me. Then he got the Desert Eagle up from Scott’s lap. Both of them tried to escape desperately and I forced myself to look in their eyes. They deserved this last act of kindness. _I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Please, forgive me._

Sherrinford raised his gun to Heath’s temple and pulled the trigger. The sound made me jump against the glass which didn’t move at my attack. I screamed. Sherrinford didn’t care as he turned the gun towards Scott’s temple now. When he pulled the trigger again I was hysterical. I screamed at the top of my lungs when the earpiece started working again.

“Elisabeth!”

Sherrinford smiled at me devilishly. He touched his own earpiece hidden under his hair and spoke softly, all the while he kept eye contact.

_“Kill him.”_

Kill him? _Who?_ He said I should choose who **_survives_** , didn’t he? He couldn’t possibly… no… **NO! _He can’t…_**

"Mycroft! **_MYCROFT!_** **BEHIND YOU!** " I screamed but the earpiece stopped working again.

I stared at the laptop’s screen, I still saw it. Sherrinford was watching my reactions as the man with the gun stepped closer to Mycroft and pulled the trigger, without any hesitation or second thought.

 **“NO!”** I screamed and fell apart, I fell to the floor and clawed at the glass before me so hard my nails broke off. **“NO, NO, NOOO!”**

My fist hit it again and _again_ and **_again_** but I knew it wouldn’t do anything. I stared at the screen on which I saw so much blood… and he was there, unmoving… _he was **d…**_

I felt every muscle in my body tense up. I curled up on the floor and I was pulling my hair and I couldn’t hear anything but my own screams. I felt a sting in my arm and a few moments later, I started to get more and more quiet and my muscles relaxed.

I blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=od-W1H4q9d4  
> *sniffs* I made myself cry. :) And will. :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Alone is all you have."_

When I woke up and looked around, I saw Sherrinford near me. He smiled and put his phone in his pocket, then he walked over to me. I was in complete panic mode. _Mycroft..._ he'll send a rescue team for me, I just have to hold on. As I looked around, I noticed we were in a cell, only a toilet was in the far corner, nothing else. Just the two of us. When Sherrinford stood up from the floor and walked over to me, I jerked away and realised whatever he gave to me was too strong. I barely could move my body as I wanted. I was weak. My hair was undone, the tracker hairband was missing. And my hands were handcuffed.

"This drug knocked you out just until I managed to smuggle you out of the country. Glad Mycroft won't be in the way anymore." As he came closer, I pushed myself with my feet to the nearest wall. "I wanted to be the one to blow his brains out, but it doesn't really matter, right?"

"No", I whimpered and I closed my eyes tight as the memories flooded my head. **_"No...!"_**

Heath... and Scott... oh God they were dead because of me. Sherrinford killed both of them. And he also had a man to assassinate Mycroft cold blooded. He was shot at the back of his head. I remembered the screen and what I saw on it. I felt so many feelings at once. I fought the urge to scream and cry as I tried to get rid of the handcuffs, but my hands shook too much.

"Oh, _yes_ ", Sherrinford flashed a dark, wicked grin as he watched me struggle. "He's not coming to rescue you anymore. He can't do anything to _protect you_ **_from me_**." He got to his knees and grabbed my ankle. I had only socks on and I screamed when he touched me. "And I'll do with you whatever I want."

" ** _No!_** _Don't touch me!_ " I shouted at him and tried to kick him with my other leg, but he caught it with his free hand.

"I'll do just that." Sherrinford chuckled and grabbed my trousers. "And I'll do many other things. I've been waiting for this for **_weeks_**."

He leaned down to me and kissed me, but I bit him as hard as I could and his blood filled my mouth and he hissed as he pulled away. He slapped me so hard cheek I fell on my side. When I felt him removing my belt and unbuttoning my trousers, I spat his blood at him. He slapped me from the other side as a reply and yanked my trousers off. I tried to wriggle away and push him as much as I could, but he was stronger than me.

"It is said women get wet when they know they'll be raped. Their system prepares for the assault to make it less painful. _Shall we test that?_ "

" **No** , stop it!" I whimpered and tried to crawl away. He grabbed my ankles again and pulled me back with a dark laugh. "Don't, _please_!"

"Now you say _'please'_. You know what? If you say you're sorry that you're a whore a thousand times, I'll stop doing it."

He moved his left hand on my neck with my handcuffed hands above it. As he squeezed my throat and I tried to push his arm out of the way, he unzipped his pants. I moaned from the lack of air and the helplessness and squeezed my eyes shut as he tore the panties off of me and forced himself inside. I wanted to scream from the pain between my thighs, but it was a pitiful whimper as I couldn't breathe normally. He pushed all the way in, stretching me painfully and I felt tears in my eyes as I kept thinking **_this isn't, can’t be happening..._** but realised over and over again that indeed it was. This amount of pain can't be my imagination.

"You're so tight", he moaned, "Mycroft didn't get to fuck you, did he? _Perfect._ Then the honour is mine to stretch your tiny pussy wide."

" _Nooo!_ " I whined and kept my eyes closed as he started to move in me.

" **Yes** ", he hissed in my ear and loosened his hold on my throat. I realised I clawed at his arm holding me, but he didn't care. "You're **_mine_**. Just as I wanted. Things always work out in my favour in the end."

" _It **hurts**_ , please stop..."

"Bad for you, I don't care."

His fast and hard thrusts filled me with pain and all I could do was cry and scream. I knew begging wouldn't help my situation. He said himself he didn't care.

"I'm about to cum", he moaned in my ear and bit my neck.

" ** _Nooo!_** " I screamed when he groaned in the next moment and filled me up with his seed.

I cried and stared at the ceiling. The pain numbed me. Sherrinford kept biting me hard as he enjoyed the last of his orgasm and I whimpered and trembled under him.

"Guess I forgot the condom", he laughed in my neck and my eyes widened in horror. "Doesn't matter. We have a pill for that, don't we? Good we're in the 21st century."

He pulled away from me and I couldn't look at his face. I cried, desperately, and I wanted him gone. **And dead.** I wanted him dead. I wanted to kill him. I felt his left hand grabbed my cheeks and he forced a pill down my throat.

"Good girl", he cooed and took the handcuff off of me just to undress me completely. As he moved my body I felt his hot cum between my legs and incredibly strong hatred filled my mind. I hated him, the world, but mostly myself for being so weak, but I just couldn’t resist. "You'll be my little toy. And you will obey me."

 _" **Never** ",_ I whispered but didn't look at him.

"We'll see, little one. I have a Russian friend here with us, you see, he'll _rewire_ your little brain. He'll make sure you're under constant stress and torture." He leaned close to my ear. "I'd like to see how he whips your ass until you bleed, but sadly, I have other things to tend to. With Mycroft gone, the possibilities are **_endless_**." He pulled away, gathered my clothes and stood up. "Later, _fucktoy_. Be good."

I watched his boots as they walked away. I couldn't think of anything but Mycroft. He was _wrong_. His senses betrayed him. He said he felt something would go wrong and that it's about me. I ran my fingers in my hair and pulled at it as I screamed and cried from the unbearable agony. He was gone and it was **my** fault. **My** fault alone. **_I_** wanted him to be my coordinator. **_I_** wanted him to help and guard and protect me.

All of it was my fault. His and Heath’s and Scott’s life was on my head. Their blood were on my hands. It'd haunt me until my last breath.

As I kept thinking about what Mycroft’s death meant to everyone, I remembered Sherlock and grief, shame and guilt engulfed me. I curled up on the floor and I let myself cry, knowing it wouldn't bring him back. He was far away and he never would come back to this world, no matter how much tears I shed for him. For _us._ And to the future we’ll never have. I wanted to stay with him until he wanted... I wished to tell him how much I liked to be around him and how I couldn't imagine my life without him anymore. I wanted to kiss him some day, to wake up in his arms in the morning, I wished to express my love to him as he deserved whenever I had the chance.

And here I was. **_I lost him._ Forever.** He ceased to exist.

I lost the track of time. I screamed and cried for what felt like hours. I started to notice the cramps. It seemed Sherrinford's pill got to work already. I knew I deserved the pain. I made a mistake and that mistake took a brilliant man from the world.

I might as well deserve and give in to all of this pain and humiliation.

 

In the following hours that man Sherrinford told me about made his debut. He was Russian and I didn’t understand a word of what he said. He dropped panties and pads before me and after I put everything on me to prevent bleeding everywhere, he grabbed my hair and yanked me out of the cell.

I didn't protest. There was no point and I deserved everything the future held for me. He brought me in a room where handcuffs and a chain hung from the ceiling. He secured my wrists high up there and got to work immediately with a whip on my back. I tolerated the pain; it was a part of my training just in case I get captured and tortured for information. For a while, I didn't respond to the beating. Then he increased the intensity and switched to my breasts. That was a very different story. When I kept moving away he secured my legs too to the floor.

There was no escape anymore. And the lashes kept coming until I screamed at the top of my lungs. After I fainted from the pain, I woke up in my cell. I was covered in bruises and small cuts, covered at parts with small amounts of blood where the whip cracked my skin open. There was a glass of water and a slice of bread next to me. I forced myself to eat as I tried to cope with my demons.

I still couldn't think of anything else but Mycroft. The grief didn’t leave me.

 

When my injuries somewhat healed up and my forced period also stopped, the man brought me to another room. During our walk I resisted and kicked him in the nuts but he never released me — and I ended up being chained to a bench. My legs were tied on the top, my hands were tied to the leg of it beneath my head. He shouted at me in Russian but I didn't understand and he removed his leather belt. I feared for a moment he'd touch me, but instead, he folded the belt in two and hit my bottom with it.

Again, it took him a considerable time to break me. But this time, I didn't faint. He beat me until he wanted and I felt like I'd never sit down again. I bawled and cried my eyes out and only then he released me and brought me back in my cell.

 

I didn't know how much time passed. I couldn't see what was the time; my cell had no windows. When I healed up again, he came and brought me back to the bench. I struggled and fought as much as I could but he was stronger than me. This time, he tied me up with my face up, arms down, legs apart and he picked up a cane. He didn't spare my lady parts and he visibly enjoyed my screaming. He also probably noticed how sensitive I was between my thighs, so he kept hitting me there for what felt like a thousand times.

I was ready to give up. This was too much. At least, if this was an interrogation and he asked me questions! I wished he did this to me for information. I might’ve sung anything and everything at this point. But no. There were no questions and this wasn’t an interrogation. This was plain, simple, cruel torture. Just because he could do it. Just because Sherrinford ordered him. Just because he enjoyed doing it. So I knew nothing would stop him.

_Nothing and no one._

**_Ever._ **

 

I took a look at the tub full with cold water before me. My wrists were tied behind my back and I started to panic. I knew what he wanted to do to me. I closed my eyes when he pushed my head under the water. It got in my nose and I swallowed some of it. I tried to struggle and wriggle but I couldn't achieve anything.

He suddenly got my head out and I coughed violently. He waited a little and pushed my head down again. My panic started to get worse with each passing second underwater. The third time he lifted my head up I was hysterical.

**Then I saw him.**

Mycroft stood at the other side of the room, leaned against the wall in a pitch black three piece suit with a crisp white shirt and a blood red tie. He stared at me in the eye – his distant, cold, _dead_ – and he even spoke to me.

_"Concentrate. Breathe!"_

I took a deep breath just before my captor pushed my head underwater again. I was confused. How could he be here? _That can’t be…_

When my head was raised again, he walked closer, arms still crossed. He never looked anywhere but into my eyes. I understood only I saw him.

 _"Breathe in. Calm yourself!"_ His voice was commanding and I obeyed it. Mycroft knew best, after all. _"Work with what you have. Remember, breathe when you can."_

"Help me!!" I screamed at him before my torturer pushed my head down again.

When I could look at him, he was on the other side of the tub, crouching, his hands on the side of it, staring intently at me.

 _"Nobody helps you. You're alone. Alone is all you have. Find peace in it. Don't fight. He finds enjoyment in your struggle."_ I purposefully relaxed as much as I could. My captor yanked my hair and I whined. He hissed something in Russian. Mycroft smiled. _"Good girl. Now breathe."_

I took a deep breath. Soon, this torment had no effect on me and my torturer tossed me in my dark cell.

 

A long time after my torturer came back. As my wrists still were bound, he just grabbed me and brought me in another room. There was a steel table in the middle of it. He grabbed and tossed me up on it before he untied my wrists only to tie them to the table's legs. I tried to do my best to get away, but I was too tired. He starved me, I only got water in the past few days. When I couldn't move anymore, he walked in front of me, grabbed my hair and yanked my head up to look at him. He showed me a thick cane and growled something in Russian. As an answer, I spit him in the face. He let me go and walked to the side of the table.

The cane hit my bums and it stung so much. I tolerated it well, again; physical pain was something I could cope with. Then it started to become unbearable. As nobody counted it, I had no idea how much I got before I started to scream. My torturer laughed at my pain and started to hit me even harder. I could feel small amounts of blood run down my thighs as I continued to shriek at the top of my lungs.

That was when he appeared again. He was in the same attire and his hands were in his pants' pockets.

 _"Pain is a friend. Embrace it"_ , he said when I took another breath to scream just before the cane hit me again.

"I can't! I can't, stop! **STOP!** "

 _"He won't stop. He enjoys hearing you scream."_ He came closer again, crouched before me again. _"If you want it to stop, you'll have to stop screaming. It'll be harder to endure it, but you can do it."_

"Help me", I whimpered and bit back a scream when I was hit again.

_"I will."_

I stayed still and kept my breath in. I kept staring at my Mycroft's face. I became unresponsive even though the cane hit me harder and harder. Mycroft smiled at me when my torturer threw the cane away and shouted something.

 _"Good girl"_ , he said.

I closed my eyes and lost contact with the world.

 

Who knows how much time later, maybe weeks or even months, I lied on my side in the middle of my cell. My body burned from the whipping I endured not so long before without uttering a noise with Mycroft's help. I heard his voice a moment later.

_"He gave you a pill. Since you're not dead, I assume it was contraceptive. You do know what does that mean, right?"_

I swallowed and looked up at him. He stood in the corner, arms crossed on his chest. I took a deep breath.

"Rape."

 _"Most certainly."_ He replied, his expression unreadable. _"So you'll have to prepare yourself for it. You'll need to relax and accept that you can't escape it."_

"How can you be so calm about this?" I whimpered as I wrapped my arms around myself. "You never would be so calm if... I was hurt."

At this, he blinked a few times, then he smiled, gently.

_"I’m not here for real. **I am dead.** "_

I blinked and he was gone.

 

My torturer tried to find a way to get response out of me. He found none. I always reached out for my hallucination and even in this form, I listened to him.

Because Mycroft knew what to do.

He appeared more and more frequently, especially when I was lying in the dark cell's floor in the cold. He kept me company.

"I miss you", I whispered and tears formed in my eyes. I knew it was hopeless to wait for a rescue team; nobody knew I was kidnapped and there was no point believing I was important enough for anyone to save me. So I started to give up. "I miss you so much..."

He tilted his head and smiled, sad.

_"You know I'm only here because you want me to be, but I don't exist in this world anymore. You have to let me go."_

"I can't", I cried quietly as I pushed myself towards him on the ground. He remained still. "I want to... quit."

He blinked once.

 _"Quit? From here?"_ I nodded a little and he sighed. _"There is a way."_ I swallowed as he reached out, his hand hovering above mine. He gazed in my eyes intently. _"You'll need to die."_

I closed my eyes and tried to touch his hand. When I looked up, he wasn't there. I cried and shook violently on the floor, broken and alone.

He was right.

I must die.

Maybe then, I'd see him again.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „Say you love me!”

"How can I kill myself?"

The hallucination stared at me for a long time. He sat in the corner with his legs bent, his elbows on his knees, arms stretched out.

_"You don't have many options. You don't have any kind of string or cloth to suffocate yourself. If you had, you could tie your neck to the bars and lower yourself until you lost consciousness and eventually died. But you're not that lucky."_

"I guess my luck dried up when you... when he..." My throat tightened and tears filled my eyes. He waited until I pushed myself up to sit. His eyes never left mine. "What can I do?"

Mycroft sighed deeply.

_"You have two options."_

"Better than none."

 _"You can starve yourself to death or dehydrate to the point of dying."_ I leaned back against the wall with a sigh. _"These are the most challenging ways to go. Not as easy as getting shot."_

"I wish I had a gun now." I whimpered, "it sounds so easy."

 _"Not painless"_ , he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Did it hurt?" I whimpered, slipping between reality and imagination.

 _"It probably did."_ He sighed quietly. _"You do remember, Liz, that I'm not here for real with you?"_

I let the tears roll down my face. I didn't blink, I was afraid he'd vanish again.

"I don't want to remember that. And call me Elisabeth."

_"I can't. You won't be able to tell what's real and what's not."_

"What's the point in sanity when I'll never leave this place again? What's the point in sanity when I won't see him again?"

He stared once more, for long, long minutes. I pushed my burning, whipped back to the cold wall.

_"You really should've told him when you had the chance."_

"Say my name", I begged, sobbing now. "Say it as he used to say."

I saw him swallow before he took a deep breath. And then, the illusion uttered my name, just as Mycroft did before he was shot.

_"Elisabeth."_

I broke down, collapsed on the floor, crying. He vanished again.

 

I was kicked in the stomach as I was lying on the floor in one of the torture rooms. The kick was so strong  I slipped on my side against the wall.

"You stupid whore!" Sherrinford yelled above me. I glanced up and saw my hallucination was there. Mycroft was watching me intently, standing just behind Sherrinford. "Did you think he wouldn't notice that you tried to starve yourself?"

 _"Lie",_ Mycroft whispered.

"I wasn't starving myself. I simply wasn't hungry", I coughed and realised I tasted blood on my tongue.

Sherrinford crouched next to me. I only saw his boots and dark green trousers, but now I noticed he wore a green coat. He reached for my chin and he lifted it gently. I kept looking at my Mycroft. Sherrinford looked back above his shoulder, then he looked back at me. I didn't care.

"Liar! You aren't allowed to die. Ever." He whispered to me and I trembled in his hold.

 _"Try to make him angry",_ Mycroft suggested, _"he has a temper, he might accidentally give you what you want."_

"Even looking at your face makes me want to kill myself."

He slapped me so hard I felt my neck crack.

"Shut up. You're not allowed to speak."

Mycroft stepped next to my head and glanced at Sherrinford momentaliry.

_"Compare him to Mycroft. He probably hates that."_

"You're only quarter the man Mycroft was", I hissed when he grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him. "Must feel awful to be so ridiculous..."

His face distorted with fury. He smashed my skull against the wall behind me.

I barely could see from the pain.

 _"Again",_ Mycroft whispered.

"You must've been a failure, the family shame in your entire life..."

I heard Sherrinford roar before he smashed my head against the wall again. I felt like my skull cracked. I blacked out.

I was lying in the grass. I had a nice, simple white dress on me and I stared up on the blue sky. The sun was shining and it was so warm around me.

"Elisabeth!"

I quickly sat up and smiled wide.

"Mycroft!" I jumped to my feet and ran to him. He laughed and caught me, swirling me around above the ground. Everything he had on was white. His three piece, shirt and tie. He was literally glowing. "I missed you so much!"

"I know. But we're safe now", he put me down and grabbed my hand, leading me to the small house near the woods. "Do you want to see Ninnie?"

"Yes!" I replied, excited, and we hurried towards the house.

I laughed when Mycroft picked me up in bridal style and brought me inside. I thought it'd be a nice kitchen, but it was my cell. The light changed around me. It was much more dark now. And I suddenly also realised that it wasn't Mycroft indeed who was carrying me.

**It was Sherrinford.**

Once he saw I was awake he simply dropped me on the ground. I cried out when I hit the floor and his boot came down on my chest again, and again, and again.

"You fucking stupid whore! I should kill you right here, right now! If only I didn't enjoy that idiot tried to find you!"

 _" **Sherlock** "_, my Mycroft whispered, _"Sherlock must be looking for you."_

I felt something I haven't in months. Hope. And it destroyed me. Because I might get out of here, but that wouldn't bring Mycroft back. I stared up at Sherrinford.

"You're the idiot compared to Sherlock."

He roared again and his boot met with my face. I blacked out once again and I floated in peaceful darkness.

When I gained my consciousness again, I realised Sherrinford just finished using me. So my torturer wasn't allowed to rape me. That was Sherrinford's privilige.

"Finally", he growled above me and turned my head to force me to look at him. Pain pulsed all over in my body. My Mycroft was gone. "I'll use you as I see fit. You're **_mine!_** Am I clear?"

"I'll never be yours", I whispered and tears filled my eyes.

"Do you really think what you felt for Mycroft was _love_? Do you think **_he loved you?"_** He laughed in my face. I shook violently under him. "He never was capable of loving anyone, especially not someone so stupid compared to him. And you, sweet little Elisabeth, are stupid. You have no idea what he really was. Always tried his best to mask his feelings and never cared about other people. Except Sherlock. He was the only one who could get close to him, but not enough, might I say. He manipulated Sherlock as well just to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." He leaned close to my ear. "And that's the thing about Sherlock which makes it so **_exciting_**. Because when he finds you, _and I’ll let him,_ he'll find me as well, there'll be no Mycroft to talk sense into him and I'll make sure you'll see how I torture him to death."

"He's cleverer than blundering into your trap", I whispered, but my voice shook with my body.

"How wrong you are..." He chuckled. "Mycroft is supposed to be cleverer and he blundered into my trap as well. Catching Sherlock will be much easier."

"But... they're your brothers", I tried to reason with him. Maybe he'd see the error of his ways. I suspected I was wrong about him, but I've tried to keep him talking. "Both of them..."

"Do you know what being their brother felt like?" Sherrinford's eyes darkened. I could see it through the throbbing headache. "If you had any idea at all, dear... how he tried his best to control all of us, especially our brilliant, lovely sister... because she was the fourth, you see." I hadn't realised he pushed his hard cock in me again, only when he started to move. I muffled myself with a hand and he didn't care as he kept pinching, twisting and pulling my nipples as hard as he was able to do. "And she was the _best_. But she was too different. It wasn't matter I constantly told them to notice what a mastermind she was. After a fire accident, both of us ended up in a facility. And can you imagine: **_it has my name_**." He kept thrusting hard and I whined under him from the pain. His hands snaked around my neck and he choked me. "Mycroft made sure we remained locked up. He couldn't bear the idea we were smarter than him and I saw our little sister as she was. She could've rule the world with me. Instead, we spent years being locked up, amoung with serial killers, madmen and cannibals. But not anymore..." He moaned in my ear and squeezed my throat tighter. I felt I started to lose consciousness. "Not anymore..."

When I woke up I was lying in a bed under a duvet. I already forgot how it felt like. It was so soft. When I stirred I felt someone move next to me. I dreaded the thought it was Sherrinford, so I remained as still as a statue. I felt something around my right ankle. Leather, tight. Chain. My lips quivered.

I remained, lying awake for hours. The room never got brighter. I realised there were no windows. An alarm went off and I swallowed, startled, when I heard a grunt next to me. Light blinded me a second later and I buried my face in the velvet covered pillow.

"Morning, beautiful", Sherrinford placed a kiss on my naked shoulder and his hand reached between my thighs. I remained still and scared. "I like your warm, soft body against mine." He pushed a finger inside me and I whimpered as I was dry and it hurt. His eyes found mine and I looked away. He pushed another finger in. I let the tears roll freely. "You're still so tight. Good. I enjoy it when your little pussy squeezes my cock when I'm inside of you."

I shut my eyes tight, terrified what he'll do to me next. I hated how dirty he talked. Maybe he succeeded and he broke me? I _shouldn't be_ terrified. This wasn't how I _should_ respond. This wasn't how I responded not too long ago. This _shouldn't_ happen. But then again, **I deserved the pain.** Mycroft's life ended **because of me.** This was **_punishment._** I must endure it. So I forced myself to take it. More tears gathered in my eyes as he started to thrust his fingers in and out of me, but I didn't struggle. My hands weren't bound, I could've protest, but I didn't. I remained paralyzed, unmoving. Sherrinford leaned to me and bit down on my shoulder as hard as he could. I shook from the intense pain in my shoulder and between my legs, but I stared at the wall before me where my Mycroft stood with a gentle smile on his face.

 _"Is this what you want? Suffer?"_ He asked softly. " _He'd want you to fight. He wouldn't want you to submit yourself to the pain completely. Why did you listen to me? You'll lose yourself."_

**_And why is that a problem...?_ **

As I continued staring at him, Sherrinford tossed the warm duvet off of me, pulled his fingers out and situated himself above me. I knew what he wanted to do and I didn't move, merely let him toss my legs apart.

"I like it that you just take it", he purred above me and I let my tears roll across my temples and into my hair as he pushed himself inside of me again. "No more ridiculous whining and fighting. You are what I tell you what you are. A hole for me to use."

I cried under him without uttering a noise. My Mycroft shook his head.

 _"Is this how your life will continue from now on? Will you accept your fate and become his slave? Bound and used as he wishes?"_ He tilted his head when I thought, _what other choice do I have? "You still could try to quit and save whatever dignity you have left, don't you think?"_

 **Dignity.** I had **_none_** left of that. I closed my eyes, forced them shut as Sherrinford increased the pace and the pain. His hands were on my neck again, his nails dug in my flesh.

"I want you to say you love me", he moaned above me and I didn't look at him, just felt more tears in my eyes. He yanked my neck up to him then tossed me back on the pillow. "Say it! Say you love me!"

I whined something incomprehensible as his fingers tightened more around my neck. I wouldn't. I couldn't. He could do whatever he wanted to my body, but I wouldn't tell him that. **_Ever._** And Sherrinford hated disobedience. I was slapped. On my face. Then bitten. On my breasts. He pinched my clit and I shook and screamed, but no words came from me.

He came in me again and pulled away to look at his handiwork. I lied beneath, broken, vulnerable, a shadow of what I used to be. Bruised and shattered.

"I'll make you say it", he growled above me as he got up and left me there, locked the door behind himself and I didn't move.

 _"You need to quit this if you want to stop the pain"_ , I heard my hallucination's voice right next to me. I turned my head and he was just... lying there, staring at me blankly. I rolled on my side and took him in. It was Mycroft’s shadow, but similar enough to make myself believe he was there with me. And I found a little peace in that. The pain lessened. _"You have more choice here than in your cell. Don't let him tear you apart completely."_

"Stay", I begged instead and he sighed.

_"Alright."_

 

„Do you have any idea for how long I wanted to be recognised?”

My wrists were between my knees and they were bound with duct tape. The soft duvet was wet with my tears as I buried my face in it. Sherrinford hit my bottom again with his leather belt and I forced back my voice. _It doesn’t hurt. It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt…_

„Do you have any idea how much they loved Sherlock instead of me?”

Another swat, another grunt as I tried my best to stay silent and motionless. I gritted my teeth and didn’t reply.

„And they all so fucking lashed out at me when I helped her get him out of the way…”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Another swat, even harder than the ones before. I bit into the duvet and muffled a moan, eyes shut tight. But Sherrinford didn’t care if I shouted or not and I knew. He just… punished me because he could.

„I admit my original plan was to get to Mycroft through you. Then I wanted to kill you. I wanted to strangle you, slowly, gently, delicately as I fucked you. I wanted you to die as I came into you. But I realised that having you as a toy is much more better.” Another swat. I moaned louder. My bottom was on fire. „And you know what? I think you _enjoy_ **this**.” I felt his fingers around my labia and my eyes widened in horror. „You dirty slut. You’re **_wet._** Guess you like it when someone beats the shit out of you, huh?”

**_„No!”_ **

I whimpered, because I didn’t enjoy this at all. I suffered, it was painful, I wanted him to stop beating me. I wanted him to be dead. I didn’t want him to rape me again, to touch me again, to speak to me again. I wanted him gone forever.

„Well, this one’s a sloppy little cunt.” He forced two fingers inside of me and I had to realise he was right. I really was wet. But not because I sexually enjoyed any of this. I felt ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. I cried in the duvet as he started to finger me. „You might deny it but your body betrays you.”

„I don’t enjoy this”, I cried desperately and wanted to move away, but the duct tape held my wrists to my ankles tightly and I remained just as he finished binding me. „Please Sherrinford, please stop…”

„Shut your mouth”, he pulled his fingers out and slapped my labia as hard as he could. I screamed. „Maybe I should do this more often. You’re getting off to this. Bet you even fantasised about a man dominating you like this, didn’t you?”

I cried. Because sometimes, I did fantasise about this. But that would’ve been a very different scenario. A part of me wanted to discover things like this, but not the way it happened here. I didn’t feel safe here and I knew whatever I said, however I begged, the torture would continue. And it wasn’t right.

„So just how does it feel like to be taken in hand by a real man, hmm?”

Sherrinford stepped away and another swat bit into my flesh and I screamed, this time. The leather kissed my labia as well. It was unbearable and I couldn’t escape it. I wanted it to stop, at all costs.

„You’re not a real man!” I shouted in the duvet. „And you never will be!”

I knew I shouldn’t have said this. The way he growled behind my back made my gut twist with fear, but it was late to take it back now. I looked back at him momentarily and I saw he was just ready to hit me again, raising his thick leather belt high above his head. I shut my eyes tight and the swats kept coming, hard, quick and cruel. I shrieked but couldn’t escape. I couldn’t do anything, just feel the sharp pain. He kept beating me for a few minutes before he dropped the belt and knelt behind me to thrust his cock inside my beaten pussy. I cried again, it was too painful. His nails dug into my back, hard.

„If you say something like this again, I’ll cut your clitoris off with scissors”, he threatened and I whimpered, terrified, because I knew he’d do it for real. As he moved in me hard he grabbed my hair and pulled it up, but I couldn’t raise my body because of the way I was bound. He didn’t care. He just wanted to cause me as much pain as he could. „Say you love me!”

I stared at the wall, my sight blurred from the tears. I couldn’t believe this. He was the most horrible man I’ve ever encountered. A sentence before he threatened to mutilate me and now he wanted me to say I loved him? What sort of maniac was he? Psychopath... he was locked up until now for a reason... I let him do whatever he wanted with me and I hissed again and again, my backside burning, but I never uttered a word. He ordered me again and again, but I didn’t speak. I knew he’d finish either way. I didn’t care how much pain he caused me during it. I deserved that anyway.

When he was done, he cut the tape off of my body and dragged me back to the cell I spent most of the time since I was here. He tossed me on the ground and I collapsed and remained there, unmoving. I didn’t look at him.

"I'll be gone for a few weeks again. You better do what I say or you’ll be in a much worse situation. You're mine.” I rolled my eyes. He really loved saying this. „And you'll continue being mine. You can't die, unless I kill you. Understood?"

I closed my eyes.

"Fuck you."

He grabbed my hair, turned me to face him and slapped me forcefully. I moaned as he tossed me back on the floor, then stayed still.

"The next time I come around, I'll have him beat this attitude out of you."

He got to his feet and left. I curled up and tried to do my best not to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, I have the most views, subscriptions and bookmarks on this fic.  
> Guys, check out my other two Mycroft stories if you haven't already. You won't regret it, sweet promise. <3  
> I'm also thinking of uploading my Fem!OC x Colonel Black (Mr Gatiss from Clone) with Mycroft (oh sweet jesus) fic as well... but that's shameless fluff and smut. Guess where does all the frustration go when things don't turn out in this fic as I wanted them.  
> IT WRITES ITSELF, IT'S EVIL AND HAS AN OWN CONSCIOUSNESS. :D  
> I'll so enjoy the next chapter btw. <3


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I am insane.**

I was left alone with my torturer who set a schedule into my days. He started tying me to a chair and poured ice cold water on me, starting from my head. Then as I was drying, he force fed me with lots of bread and made me drink lots of water. Then he also beat me when he saw fit. Sometimes, when I was too hysterical, he gave me vodka, which made me sleep better, but a few times I threw up all the food because of it and it started all over again.

It started to get colder in my cell and my torturer was 'kind' enough to give me a huge green shirt to cover myself with it. It was so big if I stood up, it covered me until the middle of my thighs but one of my shoulders always was uncovered.

I kept shivering on the floor and I was missing my hallucination. He didn't come, not this time. My newest torture was sleep deprivation. My torturer checked up on me every twenty minutes after he set up bright, frequently flashing lights behind my cell's door and had nightmarish sounds play nonstop. I turned my back to my cell's door and curled up on the cold floor. I was so tired, but I couldn't fall asleep. The flashing lights and the loud sounds made it impossible for me to get any rest.

Suddenly, the light stopped flashing and ear piercing silence engulfed me. For a while, I heard nothing, but I didn't move, thinking maybe I could get some rest now. I heard steady, slow steps coming towards my cell and I thought my torturer would come to check if I was already asleep or not.

My door opened and I pulled myself together with eyes closed tightly, bracing myself for the intense pain I'd probably experience very soon. But then — someone gently put a thick, green coat on my shivering form.

"Elisabeth?"

I stopped shivering because of the shock.  _My hallucination?_ But... it never touched me and never could cover me with anything... though, that voice came definitely from behind me. I didn't dare to move or speak as I started to shake again.

A hand gently touched my shoulder and as I jerked violently, I thought to myself that _this,_ **_this_** indeed was too much for me. _I completely lost my mind._ **I am insane.** Or my hallucination just got much more real because I was exhausted. Or maybe I fell asleep and this was just a dream.

"I've _tried_ ", I whispered, "I've tried to somehow... starve myself... but he didn't let me die..." Silence. He probably already was gone. After all, it was just a hallucination, to give me comfort when I couldn't cope with the torture. _But the coat…?_ "I need... a new idea... how should I end this..."

The hand gently pulled on my shoulder and I let myself to be turned. I expected my Mycroft, but now, he had very different clothes on. No sign of the black suit and the crimson tie. He was dressed similarly to Sherrinford; green coat buttoned up, black scarf around his neck, hat on his head made from fur. He looked... _different._ He didn't stare as he used to, he scanned my expression. I blinked, slow, deciding I really went nuts and afraid he’d disappear.

"Help me", I swallowed. "Help me quit. I want this to end. I want to die."

His gloved hand slowly moved to my face to gently stroke my cheek. I was afraid to move and blink, I was terrified he'd disappear as he used to.

"Oh, Elisabeth", he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry..."

"Don't leave me, I beg you, please, not now", I shivered again, grabbing his hand so weakly as I panicked a little. I saw he looked at my bone white, slim fingers but I didn't move my eyes from his face and couldn’t blink. I faintly registered I couldn't touch him before. "Don't... don't go. I... I need... advice... what should I... do now?"

"I'm not going anywhere without you. I'm here to take you home", he said quietly, "can you stand?"

I blinked, confused; he didn't disappear… yet. He remained still, his eyes so aware and alive, not as dead as before. I weakly squeezed his hand. He seemed... so real. Was this his new form as a hallucination? This really would make it hard for me to tell what was real and what wasn't.

"Home?" I sniffed quietly.

Maybe I was dying now, finally? Maybe death took this form on to bring me comfort? I didn't feel like I was dying, though.

"Yes", he nodded, "back to London."

I didn't believe him.

"You're playing tricks... with me. Who are... _what_ are you?" I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, afraid he disappeared, he still was there.

"You know who am I. You remember me. I'm Mycroft."

"Mycroft is dead. He was shot. I saw it happen... he was shot in the back of his head..."

"No. That was, sadly, Kurt. I made Sherrinford _believe_ I’m dead", he muttered quietly and he looked shattered, "because I knew he took you. I didn't want him to know I'm searching for you. I'm real, Elisabeth, I'm really here with you now."

My brain staggered to process the information. I stared at him, blinking often and tiredly, swallowed nervously and shook my head.

"You're a hallucination... and... and you'll disappear... just like you always do."

"I'm not and I won't."

He moved the coat on me to cover me completely before he gently pulled me to himself. I instinctively eased into his arms; I might as well enjoy it. After all, this was the end game. I was sure that this appearance of his could mean he'd carry me to the other world, or that he'd take my sanity. I was fine with both, so I didn't struggle at all. It didn't even occur to me that what he said was the truth. Mycroft slipped his right arm under my legs and his left arm under my back and pulled me up to himself.

"You've lost so much weight", he whispered as he got to his feet with me, holding me tight. I rested my head on his chest and kept staring at his face. He leaned down and his lips brushed against my forehead. "You have fever."

 ** _Fever._** Maybe this was the fever. Maybe this was someone else, I just imagined it was Mycroft. I closed my eyes again and he started to walk out with me. I looked up again after a while; my torturer rushed to us and barked something in Russian. Mycroft replied, his voice commanding and rough as he spoke unknown words to me in that foul language and the man took a few steps back with a confused look on his face. But then, he let us go.

And I realised in that moment, _this_ Mycroft really wasn't a hallucination. Before, my torturer didn't see him.

I moved my hand on Mycroft's chest and grabbed his coat tight. He glanced down at me for a moment before he walked out of the building. It was so cold outside and it was dark and snowing. It was so weird to feel the air and wind on my face again. He brought me to a car and a man who stood next to it opened the door for us. Mycroft placed me on the seat gently, but I didn't let his coat go.

"Don't leave", I whimpered, my lips quivering.

"I'm never leaving you", he said, gently removing my fingers.

He straightened his back and closed the door, said something to the man next to him before he moved to the other side of the car to get in. While he did, I put on the coat; I had only that and the shirt on myself and I was so cold, but inside the car it was nice and warm. I still wanted to have the coat on me. When he got in, though, I continued to stare at him.

The car left with us. I didn't notice how fast we left and that the place was in the middle of nowhere. Mycroft examined my expression for a long time before he got his phone out of his coat's inner pocket and called someone, his eyes never leaving mine.

As if we couldn’t believe the other truly was there.

"Send the _bird_. We're done." Then he hung up and called someone else. "I've got her. Prepare for our arrival." He hung up again. I didn't move, because I was sure if I did all of it would turn out to be a dream. And I didn't want it to end. I couldn't bear the thought. Mycroft reached behind us and pulled a bag in his lap. "You must be cold. I've got a few clothes here, they're probably a little big, but you really should put them on." I blinked, unmoving. Mycroft stopped fidgeting with the bag. "You still don't believe me, do you?"

"I really wish I could", I replied quietly. "But I've been seeing you frequently and you always left."

"That version of me is not real."

"How can I be sure that this version of you is?"

He slightly narrowed his eyes, thinking, he tilted his head. Then he gave me green trousers from the bag. I put them on, slipping it under the coat on me. He gave me socks and boots and I put them on as well. Then, he pulled out a hat just like his and put it on my head gently. I shivered under his touch.

"I got you out. The other one... ever tried doing so?"

I swallowed thickly.

"That... _he..._ **you** got me out of torture."

His eyes darkened.

"Why me?"

"Because you always know what to do. You always know best."

It seemed to me my words hurt him deeply.

"No, _I don't..._ Sherrinford fooled me, this never should've happened."

I closed my eyes and sighed. The warmth and the gentle rumbling sound of the car calmed me down so much. I felt like I'd fall asleep at any moment.

So this was it? Was this death? I waved goodbye in thought to the remaining sanity I had as my head fell on his shoulder and the world went black.

 

I woke up and I had no idea where I was. When I looked up, I realised I wasn't alone. Mycroft sat on the edge of my bed and he tapped on his phone. I stirred and he looked at me. He still had the same clothes on, everything was green on him, but the coat, the hat and the scarf was missing. The room was rather bright, it must've been during the day, the walls and sheets on me were gold, the curtains and canopy deep red. I felt the clothes on me, the same ones I put on in the car. The feeling was alien to me.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly. My head was full with confusion. A dull headache throbbed in my temples. I couldn't reply yet. "You've had nightmares."

"I don't... don't remember", I managed to push through gritted teeth and moved slightly, feeling like the soft and warm duvet on me was made of knives.

"Your fever was too high." He put his phone away and brushed his fingers against my forehead. I didn't move, I looked at him like a startled bird. "But it's much more better now."

I refused to blink. I was afraid if I did he’d disappear.

"Are you really here now?" I whispered.

"Yes."

He had patience, I had to give him that. I was sure I'd ask this question a lot and I felt it wouldn't bother him. I was grateful.

"How long have I been there?"

I saw he tensed.

"Five months, two weeks, five days."

I swallowed thickly.

"Ninnie..."

"She's alright. Enjoys her stay at Baker Street."

He looked at his phone, tapped on it and soon he showed me a picture of Ninnie, sleeping in Sherlock's lap. I felt the tears filled my eyes. I looked back up at Mycroft.

"Thank you..."

"It's nothing. Really. I know how important she is for you." I swallowed and rubbed my face. Every movement hurt. He noticed. "Tell me about your injuries."

"Nothing severe", I sighed, "they never broke bones. That man back there… he just tried various methods to make me scream, but with..." I blinked at him. "My _hallucination_ , I started not to show how much it hurt. He still beat me every day…" I saw Mycroft hid his true emotions from his expression, but when I looked at his hand which he lowered with his phone, I saw he squeezed it so hard his knuckles were white. "Sherrinford was worse. I was... _he..._ " I didn't know how to put it properly. I kept looking at his hand. I faintly remembered that the healing process had a step of saying things out loud of what happened, but I found it incredibly hard to do so. As if I admitted I 'allowed' Sherrinford to use me. I felt horrible and ashamed of myself. But I trusted Mycroft more than anyone else in this world, so I knew I’d need to tell him sooner or later. "He raped me."

I felt the blood left my face and I looked up at him with a stoic expression. He pressed his lips together, so _hard,_ they were only a line. Then he turned away from me so I couldn't see his face and got to his feet.

"Please don't go", I begged and tears filled my eyes. Did he hate me now for letting Sherrinford do this to me? Was he angry with me for not being able to stop it? Did he think I was nothing but a whore, just as Sherrinford made me believe? He probably couldn't even look at me anymore. I started to cry. He looked back at me and I saw he was shocked by my reaction. He barely saw me cry before. "Ple... don't... don't hate me..."

"Why would I hate you?" He asked so softly it only made me cry more. He looked like he had no idea what to do. „Do you want me to hold you?”

„Yes… yes, _please_ ”, I whimpered, my sight blurred from the tears as I kept clawing at the duvet.

He put his phone on the nightstand and lied next to me on the bed, then reached for me and pulled me in a tight hug. I buried my face in his shoulder and wept. He stroked my head over and over again.

"I don't hate you, I never would be able to." He whispered to me gently. "I hate myself for not finding you sooner, for not being able to stop him from doing all of those horrible things to you. I hate myself that he could get to you and I couldn't do anything to stop him. I'm sorry, Elisabeth, I'm so sorry... this is all my fault..." He stroked my hair until I calmed down. "I hope you can forgive me one day."

"It’s not your fault", I mumbled quietly. „Please, don’t blame yourself…”

Mycroft wrapped the duvet a little more around me. I felt like I was a tiny burrito all wrapped up in his arms. I haven't felt so safe in a really long, long time. We were silent for a while.

"I'd like you to eat", he said quietly as he pulled away a little to look at me.

"No..."

"Elisabeth..."

"No, please don't make me!"

He picked up the panic in my voice and he stroked my cheek gently. Strange. It was me all the time who battled with him to get food in his system, and it seemed it was time for the tables to turn. But I couldn’t think of food. Not after how much that man back there pushed the bread down my throat. Even thinking about eating made me nauseous.

"Alright. It's alright. I'm not forcing anything. I'll have food delivered here and you can try anything you like. Is that alright?"

I nodded a few times, then hid my face in his shoulder again. He started to run his fingers in my hair once more. I started to calm down and think more clearly than ever in the past few months. _Months._

"How... how did you...?" I tried to ask, but couldn't, however he understood me anyway.

"The first safe spot was Kurt's. I was hidden at a different place." He gently combed through my hair. "I wasn't alone, I had a team nearby all the time."

I pulled away and looked at him, devastated.

"Why didn't you tell me? All these weeks... I thought... that you were..."

I shook my head and buried my face in his shoulder again and cried.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't... I thought it'd be an easy mission, Elisabeth. Yes, I had a bad feeling about it, but I thought none of us would be in that much danger. I didn't calculate Sherrinford into it. I made a huge mistake... and horrible things happened because of it..."

I couldn't stop crying, no matter how he tried soothing me.

"Scott... Heath", I whimpered and he sighed deeply.

"I'm so sorry, Elisabeth. I'm truly sorry. But we couldn't do anything to save them. You've tried everything."

"That wasn't enough", I whined and he pulled away, stroking my tears away.

"No, listen to me. It's not your fault. It wasn't you who hurt them. And you couldn't..."

"He made me choose", I sniffed and tried to stop the tears. "He told me to choose who should survive and... and they knew I didn't choose them and... and they knew he'd shoot them because... _because..._ "

Mycroft's fingers gently rubbed at my scalp and I made a quiet noise. I was trembling in his arms and I realised I was panting, but the way he rubbed the skin on my head calmed me down faster than I imagined it would.

"Listen to me", he said gently once I had control over myself again, "it was Sherrinford's doing. Not yours. It's **not. Your. Fault.** Do you understand?"

I whimpered again but my voice quickly got silenced when he gently tugged at the roots of my hair again, increasing the pressure until I calmed down. I didn’t know how did he figure out I’d get in touch with reality once he did this, but it worked. I shivered, but it wasn't painful at all. I nuzzled to his shoulder and swallowed as he released his firm hold, slow, and I thought he probably could only calm me down doing this during my nightmares.

"Do you understand, Elisabeth?" He whispered in my ear gently.

„Yes… yes I do”, I mumbled and I got his shirt between my fingers to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Too many… _bad_ things that I do not wish to remember."

Mycroft eventually fell asleep.

I tried to remember the things he told me before I was taken. That he couldn't eat and sleep until he knew I was safe. I wondered briefly how long this time was before he knew I was fine. _It was too much._ I fidgeted with his shirt but it didn't bother him at all. He looked so content now as he was asleep. I couldn't shut my eyes and didn't dare to move. I still thought this was a trap. I examined his face now, he was so close to me and I took the opportunity – I tried to memorise the details. _Interesting..._ he's been so horrible to me in the past and now as I was looking at his calm, sleeping expression made me feel so safe.

I swallowed. My mouth and throat was dry. I wanted to be this close to him before. I wanted, **so badly** , to watch him as he slept. His arm twitched around my torso and he grumbled an incomprehensible word. My lips instinctively moved on their own.

I **_smiled_**. The last time I smiled honestly was when I got down from that blasted air vent.

I thought about the grounding techniques I had to learn back then. I didn't need them until now, but it seemed that Sherrinford's deeds did more bad to me than I thought. I thought I was strong... I **am** strong, I'm **_supposed to be_** strong...

I realised I was starting to pant again and when Mycroft's eyebrows twitched, I knew I didn't want to wake him up. But that thought only made my fears worse. Alright. **_Alright!_** I learned about this.

 _Grounding, **grounding**... _ I needed to think of something to calm me down... _I am **safe** here, I am in the **present** and the past is **behind** me…_

I stiffened when I heard Sherrinford's chuckle. It sounded like it came from directly behind me, but that was impossible as I knew Mycroft probably had an army guarding this place, wherever we were. And I should've felt his movement on the bed. _It's not real, not real, **not real.**_

 **Grounding!** _Self soothe._ I took a deep breath. _You can do it, you're strong._

 **Name 5 things you can see.** Alright, I can do this. One, I see the ceiling, it's white. Two, I can see the canopy, it's deep red and it's made from velvet. Three, I see the curtains, it's a white one, thin, with repeated flower motives, the sun shines through them. Four, I can see Mycroft's olive green shirt. It looks strange on him. Five, I see my thin fingers fidgeting with his shirt.

 **Name 4 things you can feel.** One, I can feel the soft pillow under my head. Two, I feel the blanket wrapped around me. Three, I feel the shirt and pants on me, it's so weird. Four, I can feel Mycroft's arm holding me tightly.

My breathing slowed, but not to the normal pace. I knew I needed to continue.

 **Name 3 things you can hear.** One, I can hear how Mycroft was breathing. Two, I can hear my own breathing, slowing down. Three, I can hear the heat system's working.

 **Name 2 things you can smell.** One, the pillow beneath my head has flower's scent. Two, I can smell Mycroft's scent, it's different than what he uses, but it's still... _still good._

 **Name 1 thing you can taste.** I can't taste anything. I remembered that if I couldn't taste anything, I should name a favourite flavour. I thought of latte.

Then, of course, when I thought of that, familiar memories with it flooded my mind. When Mycroft brought me latte once. I smiled again. Strange... not too long ago it was Mycroft who triggered me and now I could only notice that each and every step I took with the grounding had some of him in, and _it helped._ I closed my eyes and nuzzled to his neck. He sighed deeply and continued sleeping.

I stayed awake thinking of him all the time and listening to his breathing.

 

I was frantically scrubbing my body.

I tried to get rid of the _feelings_ which lied beneath, I knew. But after four showers I still felt dirty. I applied the conditioner on my hair for the fourth time. I heard a knock on the door.

"Is everything alright?"

 **Mycroft.** _Worried._ According to the clock in the bathroom, I've spent one and a half hours under the pouring water. I couldn't have a bath, no matter I knew that would be better for me. I just couldn't stand the thought of getting inside of a tub full of water. I knew why, and tried not to think of that reason.

"I'm fine!" I yelled out and decided I'd get out from under the shower after this last thorough cleaning.

I still wasn't satisfied, but my skin — where it wasn't covered in bruises — was rosy pink. And it burnt. I realised I used my nails during the last shower and frowned at the few new scars I made. I didn’t remember this.

After I was done, I dried myself, wrapped my hair in a towel and looked at the new clothes Mycroft got for me. I asked for black clothes and he brought just that. I wondered how did he figure out my size, but then I stopped thinking about it. I looked at my reflection as I grabbed the clothes, still naked. I was covered in bruises and unhealed wounds. I turned my back to the mirror and looked back at it and gasped. My back and bottom were punished most and damn it... I saw scars, unhealed wounds and bruises all across myself back there.

" _Shit_ ", I muttered, then turned back to face the mirror.

I was **_skinny_**. My muscles almost disappeared, I could see each and every one of my ribs literally popping out of my skin along with my collarbones, most of my breasts _gone_.

" _Holy shit_ ", I muttered again.

I watched my face and I decided _nope, this wasn't me._ Couldn't be me. I was skeleton-like, my cheeks shallow, my lips dry and broken, skin black around my eyes. Despite my torturer paid attention not to hit me on my face and I knew it was Sherrinford's order to keep me ‘pretty’ – however he abused my face all he liked –, I thought I was... **_I wasn't me._** This… _this…_ **wreck** **_wasn’t me._** I looked down on the clothes in my hand just to tear my eyes away from the sight of myself and I saw my hands again. They shook. And looked like long, white, thin spider legs.

I started panting again. I closed my eyes then started the grounding right away. Once I was somewhat calm, I quickly put on the clothes and brushed my teeth with the brand new toothbrush, not looking at my reflection. I left the bathroom and looked at Mycroft, who was sitting in an armchair with his phone in his hand.

“Are you alright?” He asked and I shook my head. I saw he immediately tensed. He didn’t move, but I noticed how his hand gripped his phone much tighter and he was ready to jump and rush to me, but resisted the urge. I was so grateful he didn’t. I wasn’t sure how I would react to it. “What’s wrong?”

“The mirror”, I said quietly, my voice a little hoarse. “I don’t… I don’t want to see the mirror. _Any_ mirror.”

I was **ugly.** _Broken._ I was in **_pieces._** I saw his eyes wandered on my arms – both of them had new, thin wounds from my fourth and last shower when I used my nails to clean myself. He stood up and put his phone in his pocket. **Still the green clothes.** He reminded me of… I flinched when he took a step towards me and he immediately stepped back to where he was a moment ago.

 _This is so **wrong**._ _I can’t… I **can’t** control myself._ _I’m **not** afraid of **you** , I know **you’d** never hurt me but I just… **can’t…**_

“It’s alright. I’ll have it covered with a towel, is that alright?” He asked gently and I nodded little, a lot of times, and avoided his gaze. “Elisabeth… we’re in Moscow now and we should go back to London tomorrow. I think we’d be safer at home.”

I looked back up at his face. I swallowed. Travelling, leaving this safe place. **_No._** _Grounding._ **Do the grounding.** Big breath.

_Lamp, bed, armchair, telly, Mycroft._

_Towel, shirt, panties, socks._

_Traffic, my panting, Mycroft's voice._

_Shower gel, detergent._

_Toothpaste._

Big breath.

“Alright”, I said and stopped fidgeting with the edge of my shirt. I nodded a few times again. My throat was burning. “Okay.”

I saw on his face he was torn between reaching out for me and staying where he was to prevent scaring me. He tried so hard. I bit my dry lower lip and stepped closer to him. He didn’t move. He guarded his expression very carefully. But I knew that under his mask, there were so many, many emotions he was afraid to show me. It felt like we were back at the start all over again. Except that this time, he was certain his reactions would trigger me.

“You don’t have to do this”, he said gently, “if you don’t want me to be close to you, then it’s alright.”

I shook my head a little and walked to him, with quick little steps and buried my face in his shoulder then wrapped my arms around him. He gently hugged me back. It felt nice.

“Do you want to know our schedule for tomorrow?”

“Yes”, I mumbled in his shoulder.

“We’ll get up at seven, have breakfast, then will leave at eight to the airport. I have a private plane, so it’ll be just us there. After we arrive, I’ll take you to my home. Your cat will be there, Sherlock will make sure of it.” I blinked away my tears and held onto him tighter.

“Thank you”, I whimpered as I nudged his shoulder with my nose and sniffed.

“For what?” Mycroft asked back and I let out a quiet, laugh-like noise, as if I forgot how to do that.

“ ** _Everything_** , Mycroft, everything…”

I felt he shook his head. His hands stopped caressing me.

“You’re covered in scars, wounds and bruises, Elisabeth, and it feels like I put all of them there on you.”

I pulled away and stared at him. This once, he let me see his agony. This once, he refused to hide it.

“Don’t say things like this to me. _Please…_ yesterday you told me it wasn’t my fault that…” I couldn’t continue. My voice broke. I took a deep breath. _It’s alright, it **has to** be, he **needs** reassurance too._ “You should be cleverer than this. It wasn’t your doing. It was _his._ But it’s finished, isn’t it? We’re safe from him.”

I _felt_ he tensed again under my arms and his gaze momentarily darkened before he looked away. He wanted to pull me back to him – so he could hide his expression – but I refused. My eyes scanned his face, his eyes, mouth, eyebrows, everything to know… to figure out…

“ _You couldn’t catch him_ ”, I came to a conclusion and the way he looked at me back shot me into complete panic mode. “ **No…** tell me… tell me you did…”

 ** _Sherrinford was still on the loose._** Of course! That’s why Mycroft wanted to go back to London as soon as possible. That’s why the doctor who should examine me could wait. That’s why I wasn’t in a hospital now.

**I still wasn’t safe from him.**

**He knows someone saved me.**

**He probably even figured it out by now that Mycroft was alive.**

All the grounding techniques I knew were blown out the window. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the walls would crush me. I lost contact with the world and I had no idea how much time passed before I realised we were on the floor. He was holding me, held me close and kept talking to me as I was trembling. I pushed my hands on my face and I tried to even forget that this happened. _I can’t fall apart like this. I just simply **can’t**. I’ll forge this fear into **anger** , this will be my **fuel** , this will keep me **going**. I’m **strong**. I’m **stronger** than the past! It’s **behind** me anyway! I’m stronger than… Sherrinford…_

“Fuck’s sake”, I growled to myself.

I was upset with myself. I should know better! I’ve been trained for this. When I lowered my hands I noticed Mycroft was silent next to me. I looked at his hand which he removed when I spoke. My eyes slightly widened and I reached out for his hand and pulled it so I could see his arm.

“It’s fi–”

**“No!”**

I stared at the thin red lines. Scratching. Marks of nails. Just like on my arms and body. **_My nails._** Many, long, thin red lines in his pale skin. I looked at his face. He was smiling.

“It’s alright”, he said and I felt tears gathering in my eyes all over again. I didn’t want to hurt him, and he knew. “It wasn’t intentional. I know how to help you through these, but I have to remember to keep my distance. I’m sorry.”

“ ** _You’re_** sorry?” I whimpered and he pulled the towel off of my head and ran a hand in my still wet hair. He gently tugged at my roots. It worked. My voice was much more controlled when I spoke again. “I… didn’t want to… I can’t control it.”

“I know.” He said gently. “Don’t punish yourself for it. It doesn’t sound good, but it’s completely normal. And you’re coping with it very well.”

 ** _“Very well?!”_** I looked at his arm at this, but his fingers distracted me from getting upset again.

“We’ll just have to be careful.” I closed my eyes and listened to his voice, finding my peace in it. “But there are a few things we need to talk about.”

“What things?” I mumbled almost absentmindedly, thinking if he continued tugging my hair like this and kept talking, I’d obey to anything he ordered me.

“Self-harm, first.”

I looked at him and his eyes were serious, his expression strict.

“I didn’t realise I was doing it”, I offered. I heard him sigh. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”

“Food, second.”

“ _Mycroft_ —” I almost begged but his hand tugged at my hair again and I immediately shut up.

“I haven’t seen you eat and drink anything since we’re here. It’s been an entire day.”

“You haven’t eaten and drank anything either”, I protested.

“You know I can’t eat when I’m under stress.”

“Maybe I changed and—”

 **“Elisabeth”** , his voice sounded even more stern. I swallowed the rest of my sentence once more, but I wasn’t afraid, in fact, I felt safer than a moment before. _Strange._ **“Don’t. Argue. With. Me.”**

“I’m not eating unless you do.”

Mycroft let my hair go and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He realised he wouldn’t stop me from pushing him this way when it comes to eating.

“I’ll bring out the hairdryer. You shouldn’t catch a cold now.”

As he got up from the floor and walked to the bathroom, I climbed up in the armchair in which he sat before and I remembered the last time he couldn’t stop talking about me catching a cold. He _cared_ about me. I smiled. Maybe he was right and I coped with it very well. But the only reason I did was because he was around me.

Later, when my hair was dry, he showed me a menu from which I could choose anything. But it didn't matter how delicious these foods sounded, I didn't want anything. I put the menu on the coffee table and pulled my legs up on the armchair, hugging them, resting my chin on my knees.

"Could you choose?"

Mycroft looked up at me from his phone. He just finished a phone call.

"How could you get me out of there?" I asked instead, because I didn't want to talk about food.

Mycroft brought his eyebrows slightly closer to each other. He probably knew I just borrowed time for myself... and we both knew he didn't like it.

"I did something I promised myself I'd never do again." Mycroft replied then and placed his phone next to the menu on the coffee table before he leaned back in his seat.

"And what is that?" I asked curiously and he smiled slightly.

"I've been trained, just like you, Elisabeth." At his reply, my eyes widened slightly. "And the reason I didn't push you to use your talents as an agent comes from my past experiences."

_Uhh. So Mycroft has seen some shit._

"What did you need to do to find me?"

"Too many… _bad_ things that I do not wish to remember."

I understood he didn't want to talk about it. I nodded, then looked at my fingers. So... _thin._ I **hated** them.

"I had to make them believe I was Sherrinford's right hand", he said then quietly and I looked at him again. Again, his expression was well guarded. "So it wouldn't look suspicious when I arrived and took you. That's why it took so long to get you out; I had to make them believe I was just as ruthless as Sherrinford."

I tilted my head. Mycroft _could be_ ruthless, I could imagine that, but I couldn't imagine him being just as bad or nearly as bad as Sherrinford.

"That must've been tough", I mumbled.

"It was", he said quietly.

He looked at the menu, then leaned forward to pick it up. When he moved towards me I cringed and he noticed. Mycroft froze. I shut my eyes and shook my head.

"I'm sorry but _these..._ **_these_** green clothes..."

I saw sudden realisation on his face.

"I'll change them tomorrow on the plane to something you're used to. Alright?"

"Yes but..." I swallowed and looked up at him again. "You have a... black suit, yes? And red tie?"

"Yes?" Mycroft cocked a brow.

"Please don't wear them together", I said quietly.

He didn't ask why, but I knew he knew the reason. He simply nodded and took a look at the menu.

"So, what do we eat?" He questioned as he browsed. I grimaced. He didn't look at me, but he still saw. "Come on." He nudged me gently with words. "There must be something you'd like." I groaned. “Elisabeth”, he warned me, but his tone was playful. I didn’t reply. “I know you like fried chicken with vegetables. What about that, hmm? It’s light and delicious.”

“Fine”, I mumbled, tugging at the edge of my shirt. “If you eat the same.”

“Alright.” He got his phone out of his pocket, then looked at me again. “Juice?”

“Peach.”

“Peach”, he echoed and made a call to order the food.

I could’ve sworn he forced back his triumphant smile.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I thought I wouldn't find you alive."

Of course, he wasn't smiling when the food arrived and I didn't touch it. Of course, my reason to not to eat was that he himself never touched his, either. I moved with him, when he understood - rather quickly - what did I want and I ate just as much as he did.

"How does it taste?" He asked and I nodded a few times.

"It's very good." I smiled again. It started to be easier and easier. I even attempted a joke. "Tastiest meal I've had in _months_."

"What did they feed you with?"

His question was light, but I saw his fingers held his cutlery slightly tighter. It seemed my joke wasn't funny for him.

"Dry bread and cold tap water." I shrugged and ate a piece of steamed carrot. I chewed it, thinking. "I don't remember eating anything else... when Sherrinford noticed I tried to starve myself to death, he ordered that... man to force feed me with bread and water." I didn't look up. I felt how he tensed, I felt my words upset him. For me, it became easier to talk about it. So I did. Mycroft would surely change the subject if he didn't want to know something. "Sometimes he gave me vodka. I hated it."

"Then I'll make sure you get the necessary vitamins", he sighed and I looked at him. He stared at his food, literally disgusted and played with a carrot with the fork in his hand. Our eyes met. For a few minutes, he stayed silent. He swallowed as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I thought I wouldn't find you alive."

I picked up the glass and half smiled. I attempted a joke again.

"Surprise~!", I sung and drank from the peach then moaned how good it felt.

Mycroft didn't even _try_ to smile.

"Especially knowing you've had the ring with you."

"I never had the chance to use that. Sherrinford must've taken it."

"Yes. And the hairband. If you had that..."

I watched him as he seemed to sink into that well-known state. I couldn't decipher what it was, but that was what I've seen on his face lately. Helplessness, anger and sadness... he also seemed desperate. I felt like he was tearing himself apart for something he couldn't prevent. It wasn’t long before he hid it though as usual.

"Boss", I smiled and he looked at me. "It's fine now. It's over."

"I know. But the _consequences..._ are still here before me."

 **Well.** That's a way for someone to say, _you look SHIT!_ **Good.** _I needed some **confidence boost.**_

"I'll get better. Wounds will heal, bruises will disappear. I'll get some professional help with my, well, panic attacks. I'll be fine."

He put his cutlery down and leaned back as he looked at me.

"Do you think all of what happened is just... that's it?"

"If I look at it now, it's far behind me."

"No." His eyes darkened. "You don't remember your nightmares but... I do."

I blinked, slow at him.

"It will pass. I need time."

"What do you think, do we have the luxury of 'having time' before he finds you again?"

I didn't know what he wanted to do. Maybe he tried to trigger me on purpose? But why? _No, he won't be able to, I'm stronger than that._ I clenched my jaw. _I'll show him I'm strong! He can count on me._

"I'll make sure I'm all healed up when he does because I will kick his ass. Oh, and I don't really care if he's your brother or not. He's earned it."

At this, Mycroft, finally smiled.

"Agreed."

 

Mycroft had nightmares as well.

I didn't know why was I surprised about it. That evening, he insisted he'd sleep on the couch and I stayed in the bed. But, as it turned out, I couldn't really fall asleep. One small lamp was on. I turned from one side to the other and I tried to figure out what was wrong.

**Warm?** _Check._

**Comfortable?** _Check._

Still, the dream didn't come. As I continued staring at the ceiling, I heard him move on the couch. That was the moment I heard the first whimper. I frowned and listened. He was murmuring something, but I couldn't make out from here what. I tossed the duvet off of myself and I sat up to look at him. Yes, he as asleep, with his back turned to me. And he still was murmuring. I got up and walked over to him silently. Just when I stopped right next to the couch did I hear what he was repeating, over and over again, desperately.

"No, no, no, no..."

He still showed his back to me when I knelt next to the couch beside him and stroked his back. He was completely tense. Like one big, stiff nerve.

"It's alright", I told him quietly. He didn't seem to notice. "It's fine, Mycroft. It's over."

I repeated it a few times, but it didn't seem to push the right button. He jerked — and what he murmured changed.

"I can't... I can't... I can't..."

"Of course you can", I said, startled. I had no idea how should I respond and he was clearly way too exhausted to have control over it now. Should I wake him up? No... that probably wouldn't do him any good. I wondered what would be which sent him into this state. "You can do everything."

"I can't... find her", he whined quietly and I froze.

That was what he had nightmares about? That he couldn't find me? Could it be? I blinked like a confused owl for a few moments, then I rubbed his back again.

"I'm here, Mycroft. You've found me. I'm here with you. We're safe."

That seemed to do the trick. He slowly relaxed and stopped murmuring. I smiled and pulled the blanket up on him a little more, then got to my feet and walked back to my bed.

I still couldn’t sleep.

The next morning I woke up to his alarm and I turned on my other side with a grunt. I was so sleepy and tired. I faintly remembered I wrapped my arms around the other duvet and that was how I fell finally asleep, but I couldn’t even imagine how late that was. Maybe an hour or two earlier? Ah well. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep on his plane.

We got ready in silence. I went to the bathroom and looked at the towel which covered the mirror and I sighed and got dressed into the same green military clothes as him. I looked at my bruises and did the grounding once again, thinking over and over that this wasn’t me. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, then made a bun with the hairband Mycroft gave me a few minutes before without any further comments. I knew it was another tracker hairband. The fact he gave it to me sang volumes he’s not taking chances this time either.

I had a feeling I’d need to wear it even if I was completely safe.

I walked out and looked at him just when Mycroft was just checking his gun. I recognised it, it was a .357 S&W Magnum. I found his choice of arm an interesting one. This gun could take down a bear. When he saw I was examining his weapon, he cocked a brow.

“What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less”, I smiled faintly. Then I shifted my weight to my other leg. “I don’t get to have a gun in my current state, right?”

I saw he was thinking and expecting this question from me. He then put the gun in the holster on his thigh.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea.” He said then carefully. I nodded. I understood, really. I knew he couldn’t hand a gun to someone who’s been tortured for five months, both physically and mentally. I wouldn’t give a gun to someone who’s been through that either. “I thought you’d argue”, he added, as if he wondered.

“No, I won’t. I understand the reason, and I agree.”

 _Besides,_ I thought as I picked up my green coat and put it on, _I'll feel perfectly safe if he's there with me._ I slightly cringed when Mycroft moved towards me.

“Sorry”, he said quietly as he put the fur hat on my head.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry”, I sighed.

He was dressed in completely olive green, even his long coat was the same colour. I **_hated_** this colour. I was so glad I never saw him wear similar clothes and I was already looking forward to the future when I’d finally see him again in his expensive ~~and fucking posh~~ three piece suits. We left the room – and I realised two men stood guard before our door. They followed us when we walked down the corridor and were accompanied by more guards. They were communicating with each other in short commands and I kept myself closer to Mycroft when I noticed they had rifles and even grenades on their uniform.

I was wondering if all of this fuss was justified or not. Was Sherrinford really that clever that he could take down this many men? Though, I had to admit, I felt safer with the company. We were led to a car and we got in as quick as possible – Moscow? I’ve never been to Moscow before. I curiously looked around in the ice cold before I sat in, then continued to look out at the buildings after we set off. I felt Mycroft was watching me, but I was too occupied with the sight.

I heard the man on the passenger seat was talking to someone else again. I listened and looked forward. I noticed he used codewords and the feeling that if it was really this serious or not engulfed me again. I looked at Mycroft, finally. He was watching every little detail my face held.

“You don’t think this is needed”, he said then and I blinked.

“How do you know?” I asked and he smiled as he leaned back.

“You know it’s my job to know things.”

“Show off”, I snorted and he looked so entertained.

“No, Elisabeth, let me clarify, this **_is_** needed.” He sounded serious and I wrapped my arms around myself. “Until he’s out there, it will be.”

“But you wouldn’t need this if you were alone”, I noted and he nodded. “Why do you need it now?”

“Because I have something he wants.”

I swallowed, slightly nervous. I felt he was testing me again. He was testing if his words could shoot me into panic again. But I resisted. I had to, I’d need to. He was trying to make me stronger, I knew. Other people would think this was cruel, but to me, it was the best help he could provide. And maybe he didn’t even know, maybe he really just tried to push me gently to know how far he could go.

“You’re going through so much to protect me.”

At this, the corner of his lips twitched.

“Does it bother you?”

I wondered. Bothered? No. Flattered? Most definitely. Did I enjoy it? Not really, but then again, I knew why he did this and I found myself… special because of it.

“A slightly big show for a mere secretary, don’t you think?”

At this, he laughed. _What was this…?_ I suddenly felt hot in the car. I instinctively smiled and wished he laughed for longer before he looked at his phone with a half smile.

“You do know you’re needed back in the office as soon as possible, don’t you?”

“I can’t believe my ears”, I groaned. “After all I’ve been through?”

“Well, after doctors checked you, set up a healthy diet for you to follow, amoung other things”, he clarified his intentions and I listened in horror.

 _Doctors, healthy diet to follow?_ **No way.** I’d eat if he ate with me, but there was no way I’d let someone dictate what. I couldn’t even think of food. We had no breakfast and I ate about twelve hours ago and I would even go without eating for a few more hours, thank you very much.

“I don’t need doctors, I’m perfectly fine.”

At this, he looked back at me, stern.

“No, you’re not. You’re obviously in pain — you wince from sudden movements and there was fresh blood on the sheets today morning. Your wounds need treatment.”

**_He checked the bed I slept in?!_ **

“I’m fi—”

“Elisabeth, I’m not arguing with you, a doctor will check you and it’s final.”

I stared at him, pouting, but he already was looking at his phone.

“Well you can’t make me”, I looked out of the window and he sighed.

“Just watch me.”

We arrived at his private plane and another group was there, making sure we were covered. As soon as we got on, we left. I felt a little more safe in the air, if I wanted to be honest with myself. I plopped down — and made very sure not to wince — on one of the chairs and looked out of the window and I got off my hat and coat. It was much more warm here than I thought.

“I’ll be back a bit later, I must make a few calls”, Mycroft said and I nodded. “Eat something.”

I groaned when I saw the table on the other side of the plane, full with various foods. I, instead, when Mycroft left, tilted my chair’s backrest, lied down, used my coat as a blanket and decided I’d pretend I’m asleep.

I was wondering how the life in London would make me feel. Would it be nice to ease back into the weekdays, the grey, usual routine? Or would it overwhelm me? I thought for a moment if I could stay with Mycroft and I smiled to myself when I realised he probably wouldn't let me go back in my apartment. I honestly couldn't wait to be back in his house. Weird. I wondered if I'd have problems sleeping there, too. Probably won't. Ninnie will also be there.

**_Also._ **

I heard he came back later, but I still pretended I was asleep. I knew he'd notice I didn't eat and I thought how much time would it take us to get back in London. Moscow wasn't _that_ far away; maybe three or four hours.

Uh. I couldn't pretend I was asleep for that long. What if I couldn't sleep at all? I stirred and looked up; I saw him in his deep blue three piece suit with his silver silk tie and I thought _yes, I missed this sight._

"I wondered for how long would you pretend you're asleep", he commented and I blushed.

"I was just resting. I can't really sleep."

"Why?"

"I... don't know. Maybe I'm still afraid this is just a dream."

I remembered my head got hit very badly, that Sherrinford smashed my skull against the wall. I instinctively touched my head there. I felt scars under my hair. Mycroft's eyes followed my movement.

"Both of us are really here", he said then.

"I know", I mumbled. "And you should remember this, too."

He leaned back in his seat with a sigh and I was so happy he was in his suit. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

"I'm not afraid you'd disappear." His voice sounded cautious and I nodded. In a sense though, he was just as afraid as me that we'd lose one another. He looked at the table and I watched his eyes scanning the food there. "No breakfast yet."

"Nope."

"Then eat something."

"Nope."

He stared at me again, hard.

"Elisabeth—"

"Here you are scolding me for not eating while you haven't had anything either."

Mycroft's eyes darkened. I knew I was in for it again.

"I'm in perfect health, compared to you."

"Wow, thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

" _Goddamnit_ ", he hissed under his breath and he rubbed the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "Why must you always disagree with me?!"

"You take care of me, I take care of you", I put the coat down from my lap. He looked up at me, slightly surprised. "I thought we agreed to this."

"I never agreed to anything", he grumbled, but I heard he liked what I said.

"Bad for you", I yawned. "'Cos that's how I do stuff."

"Is this how it's going to be from now on?" I literally could read the words _'oh no'_ off of his face.

"Whoa, _sir_ , you're amazingly fast today", I teased him and he pressed his lips together as he stood up.

I watched him as he walked over to the table. I could only see his back. A few moments later he came back to me with a plate of omelette. He brought a plate for himself, too.

"Yours is much less than mine", I noticed.

"You need to gain weight, I don't."

"Well, this is unfair."

"Elisabeth, just eat."

"But—"

**"Enough!"**

I pouted and sank back in my chair. I watched him as he started to eat and I saw he was pouting as well. I ate until I was full, then put the plate to the side.

"Finished already?" He asked just when he ate his last bite. I nodded. "That wasn't even the half of it."

"Well I can't eat anymore. I'm full."

"You really should eat it all."

I crossed my arms on my chest and leaned back.

"Well I could throw it up in the end."

"This has to change, you know that?"

_Oh no. You won't stuff me like a pig._

"I only ate a croissant for breakfast before, remember?" I rolled my eyes and he obviously disliked my attitude.

"That's not entirely healthy either."

"Lectures the man who eats _sunlight_."

At this, he smiled and I could've sworn he _missed_ our banters.

"You **_will_** bend to my will."

"I'd like to see you try", I taunted.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You’ve saved my life again._

When the plane arrived, another car waited for us of course. Mycroft made a call again; I heard him talk to Sherlock, informing him that we arrived. When he was done, he looked at me.

"I'll bring you to the hospital. Sadly, I need to take care of a few things. But you'll be safe there."

I wasn't prepared for the intense fear which gripped my stomach. He was about to **leave me**. _He wanted to leave me._ The panic, which seemed to disappear today, or was minimised to a certain level when I was with him, started to resurface again.

_I'm strong, I can handle loneliness. He won't have to worry about me, I can't make him worry about me..._

"Right", I nodded and looked out of the window instead.

"Are you alright?" Mycroft asked and I knew he could read me again like an open book.

"Of course. I'll just need my phone and laptop to keep me occupied", I decided, thinking I'll be perfectly fine in the hospital as well, even if he wasn't around.

"Your suitcase and everything in it is already there", he said and I nodded at the window. I felt worse with each passing second. I felt sick, literally. "And I'll visit you when I can."

I nodded again and concentrated not to slip into a panic attack. I wanted to make him believe I was fine with his plans. I didn't want to make him feel like he was chained to me because of my condition. But being away from him — that was something which made me incredibly anxious. I fidgeted with my green coat when the car stopped before Bart's. We got out and he walked with me to the reception. I avoided looking at his face, but he slipped a hand on my cheek and that snapped me out of my concentration not to look at him. His eyes found mine and I knew he was searching for clues how I felt.

"Everything will be alright", he said to me quietly. "And I will come back. I promise."

I swallowed and I tried to fight back the panic. I felt like someone put a tight cage around my chest. I couldn't breathe normally and each breath hurt.

"I know", I tried to reassure him.

His thumb stroked my cheek — he was incredibly gentle —, then he smiled faintly at me and walked away. I watched him and the panic got worse and _worse_ and _**worse**_. I saw Chloe from the corner of my eyes but I watched Mycroft's car leave with him instead.

So. He left me. He really did.

I flinched when Chloe reached out for me and she soothed me with words, then she showed me my room and told me to get something more comfortable on. I looked around in the room and found my suitcase just as he promised I would. I got my business phone out, powered it up — thought about the pin code for a few minutes, it's been so long —, and went to my messages I sent to Mycroft earlier.

But what to write? I stared at the small screen, feeling strange. I haven't held a phone in my hands for five months and this colourful little thing was beautiful and weird. I put it down, then dug into my suitcase. I changed to a black tank top and black trousers, feeling the size I wore back then was bigger than my current form. That was when the doctor arrived. I swallowed nervously at the man who smiled at me.

"Elisabeth Lone, is that right?" He asked and I nodded. "Alright, let's just see your injuries, shall we?"

I stared at him, startled, frozen, and he continued smiling as he reached out for my arm. I moved away.

 ** _"Don't"_** , I hissed quietly.

"I have to see your injuries, Ms Lone. I need to see what happened."

I shook my head and wrapped my arms protectively around myself. Strange. I knew what this man wanted and I just couldn't let him even touch me. How could I let Mycroft touch me before, then? My throat tightened as the thought came to me again. _He abandoned me._ Left me here. For who knew how long.

I started to spiral out of control. The panic got worse. The doctor didn't notice, he didn't have Mycroft's eyes to see. He reached out for me and touched my arm — and I, as a reply, grabbed his hand and twisted it around. Neither of us were prepared for the sound of his breaking bones. The doctor shrieked in agony and I tossed his arm away from myself along with his broken wrist and I found myself against the wall with my hands on my head.

 _Oh no..._ **this isn't good.** When Chloe arrived she brought the doctor out who was still screaming and she closed the door behind her. I started to do the grounding.

But sadly, that won't help the doctor and his broken wrist.

An hour later Sherlock and John visited me. I still sat in the corner when John started to quietly talk to me. It was clear to me that no one wanted to check me in the hospital, not after what happened… and the fact John and Sherlock came here was probably a request from Mycroft.

"You're safe", John reassured me once again, "no one will cause you any harm. I promise. Come on, let's sit on the bed, alright?"

He held a hand out to me and I stared at it. My eyes burned, I didn't realise I was crying. But then, after a couple of moments, I accepted his hand as I chewed my lip bloody from the inside.

"Were your panic attacks this bad while you were with Mycroft?" Sherlock asked and I shook my head as I sat on the bed. I grimaced from the pain. "Interesting."

"Can I examine you?" John asked quietly and looked at me. I bit my lip again and nodded, then turned my back at them and lifted up my tank top so they could see my back. "Oh **_fuck_** ", he hissed. I heard the shock in his voice. " _This..._ this needs cleaning. All of it. **_Shit._** "

 _"John"_ , Sherlock grumbled and I looked back at them.

"Is it that bad?" I asked.

"It... the... yes", John sighed. "What caused these wounds?"

"Canes and whips", I murmured.

It was fascinating to see their expressions. I figured Mycroft told them nothing about the recent past. I sighed.

“Please Sherlock, wait a bit outside.”

I stared at the floor and when he did as I asked, I got my tank top off so John could see more of my injuries. I felt he tensed but he said nothing. I knew he was scanning the damage; the marks of the implements and Sherrinford’s visible bitemarks; there were at least five of them scattered across my body. And I didn’t even take off my bra…

“Let’s just get this over with”, I said quietly when I saw he reached for the supplies the doctors gave him. It seemed nobody in here had the guts to try and visit me except John. He walked behind me and started to get to work on my back. I grimaced. “It burns.”

“It will”, he said and I heard he was angry. I turned my head to see him from the corner of my eyes. “I’m sorry, but… whoever did this to you was an animal.”

“There’s two of them and one of them is on the loose”, I mumbled and stared forward at the wall. We stayed silent for a few minutes as he worked. Then I swallowed. “Do you have to report to Mycroft?”

“Yes”, John sighed.

“Well”, I cleared my throat. “Then… we’ll cause him a few sleepless nights.”

John hummed. I wondered briefly what did he think of Mycroft, how did he see him. Probably very differently as I did. I stopped thinking about who was actually checking me and John also seemed absorbed in the ‘work’ I ‘provided’ for him. Thus, the trousers came off as well. I felt he went completely tense again when he saw the remaining injuries I’ve had.

“How can you even sit and walk like this?” He questioned as he applied more salves on my wound covered skin. I didn’t even hiss anymore.

“I tolerate pain well”, I still stared forward, then closed my eyes.

“I still can’t imagine how painful this must be… do you need morphine? You could control the intake.”

I was about to say no when I remembered I’m going to spend at least one night here in the hospital, with no Mycroft and I trembled a little.

“Yes. That’d be good.”

“Alright.” John finished applying the salve and straightened his back. I got dressed. “Is there any… more damage?” I knew what he was hinting at. I turned to look at him and he knew the answer. I saw he got upset because of it again. “I can’t check that, but you’ll need to have someone who does. Okay? Just promise me you’ll have someone check you there too.”

I grimaced again. I didn’t want anyone to touch me there, but I knew he was right. I didn’t want to get an infection or something worse. So I nodded with a sigh.

“Fine, I will. Tomorrow. I want to rest.”

It was a lie. But John wasn’t as eagle-eyed as Mycroft or Sherlock and I was glad when I saw he nodded in agreement.

Ten minutes later I got the temporary needle in my hand which was in connection with a computer next to my bed. I lied down and covered myself with the duvet and watched the ceiling as I waited for it to kick in. I heard John talk to Sherlock quietly. I think they thought I didn’t hear anything.

“Whoever did this to her is a savage. Her wounds looked horrible…”

“Mycroft bombed the place where he found her. Whoever tortured her is dead.”

“She said there were two men and one of them is on the loose.”

“No one can reach her now. She’s under the highest security he could muster.” Sherlock went silent for a few moments. “I’m sure Mycroft gets many curious questions about it.”

“Yeah, especially now that he’s back from the dead… though, he didn’t look fine to me either when we last saw him.”

“He’d deny it but he hates it she’s not near him.”

“Really?”

I smiled to myself. The feeling was mutual, then. I hated not being close to him either.

“If I didn’t know my brother better, I’d say he has a…”

“Crush?” John chuckled quietly.

“Heart.” Sherlock finished and I heard he smiled.

I leaned back on my pillow and I felt the morphine started to get to work in my system. Weird – I didn’t even notice I was in so much pain until now. It seems being in constant pain for five months took its toll on my nerves. I tried to relax and I picked up my business phone, opened messages and started to type a text for him. I didn’t really have an idea what to write, but the more I typed, the more thoughts came to surface.

_You’ve saved my life again._

_I know what you’d say. Probably something like it was your fault that I ended up in that situation but you’re so, so wrong. It wasn’t your fault. And I thank you, so much, for saving me and taking care of me._

_Honestly, I can’t really find the words. Just don’t blame yourself for anything that happened. Please._

Even though I was thinking about not to send it, I accidentally hit send anyway. I sighed and looked at his name. I smiled to myself. As I didn’t expect him to reply, I closed my eyes with the phone in my hands and I relaxed. The pain slowly subsided in the next few minutes and my mind found peace from the morphine. However, when my phone buzzed in my hands, I looked at it and opened the message he sent.

**I’ve lied, cheated and killed to find you.**

**I’ve abandoned my entire life and jumped headfirst into Hell to bring you back.**

**I’ve had no idea whether you were alive or dead, and I’ve had no idea if I could make it back alive, not like it mattered to me if you didn’t survive.**

**And when I think of each and every one of your wounds, scars, bruises and welts, I can’t do anything just to blame myself for not finding you sooner.**

**You mustn’t thank me. It’s my fault I couldn’t find you earlier. I have your blood on my hands and nothing can change that.**

I grunted. He was still stubborn and it seemed to me he also enjoyed suffering. His message also seemed way too serious to me. I couldn’t imagine, of course, what he went through actually. But knowing all the sacrifices on his part, I felt rather touched. And sad. And angry. The morphine made me slower.

_My blood is not on your hands, Mycroft. It’s on his and his friend’s. You’ve risked your life to find me. This is why you shouldn’t blame yourself._

I swallowed and thought once again what he had to put himself through for me. My throat tightened and I turned on my right side with my phone in my hand. I decided I’d send that.

**All of it was an act of pure selfishness, can’t you see?**

**I brought you back so I could have you near me, safe and unharmed.**

**You can’t possibly think I’m a good man, now that you know this. I’m more like Sherrinford than you’d think.**

_No, you’re not, silly. And you’ve written down the reason as well. You’d never hurt me. Not like he did. You wouldn’t lock me up in your basement, keep me on chain and beat me whenever you felt like it. Even now, you make absolutely sure I’m safe and you wrote yourself you threw everything away to bring me back. This is not selfishness._

**Maybe you’re right.**

**Or maybe not.**

_Time will tell. I’m eager to find out._

**Eager to find out if I’m selfish or not?**

_Absolutely._

**How can you be curious about that?**

_How can I not be?_

**Hmm. I want you to stay in my house. Isn’t that selfish?**

_Good, I’m looking forward to it._

**Elisabeth, you’re not thinking clearly.**

_I’ve spent five months thinking you’re dead. Just try to imagine that. Being far away from you at the moment is horrible._

He went silent for a few minutes and I almost dozed off. When my phone buzzed, I checked the message he sent and then smiled to myself.

**It pains me to be separated from you, too…**

_Kindly lend a helping hand, come over and hold on to me._

I pulled the duvet up on myself more and smiled some more because of the song I just quoted from. I remembered that day a little bit clearer, now. The song he put on for me, how made me promise to go back to him, naming me Aurora… my smile disappeared and I let out a whine. It wasn’t just horrible to be away from him. It was pain. Worse pain than my physical one. I couldn’t do anything about it right now, I knew.

But **_hot damn,_** I remembered how he looked like in those black clothes and **_unf_** , I started to feel slightly better. I grinned. I was _so bad_. **Still** _so bad._ The great ol’ Liz resurfaced, after all this time. _Finally!_

**Until I can do that, your tasks are these: rest, eat and heal. The sooner you get better, the faster I can bring you back to my house.**

_I thought we had an agreement about eating._

**…have you eaten anything today?**

Oh shit.

_Sorry, I’m sleepy, I’ll get some rest now, talk to you later._

I laughed to myself quietly and checked the next message he sent before I dozed off.

**If I find out that you’re refusing to eat, I will not be happy. Rest, then do me a favour and eat.**

 

I didn’t think he’d find out I refused to eat.

I sent Chloe away every time when she brought me food. I was thinking what should I do with it and I came up with a solution. I stirred it around as if I cut the veggies and meat, then put some of it in handkerchiefs which I threw out in the bin. I always made it look like I ate some of it.

On the third day I had to stand on a scale. Another doctor checked the paper in front of him, then looked at the scale again.

“This isn’t good”, he murmured and looked up at me with a frown. “You're eating, aren't you?”

“Of course I do. I eat every time I get food”, I lied and he believed me.

“And how are you feeling?”

“Much better.”

He looked at the scale again and sighed.

“Still not good.” Then he got his phone out of his pocket and called someone. My stomach clenched with fear when I heard who he was talking to. “Mr Holmes, good afternoon. I’m calling you because Ms Lone is losing weight…”

I went completely pale. _Oh no, shit!_ **Shit!! _SHIT!!!_** I was in deep, **deep _shit!_** He’ll find out what I did, he’ll know and he’ll be angry…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Mycroft be in mother hen mode in the next chapter? Will the plates fly during their argument? Would someone - or more than one - get 'accidentally' fired because they didn't notice she didn't eat?... :|


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Elisabeth, I’m too tired for this.”

I was asleep.

I woke up immediately to the sound of my door opening, and I knew who visited me, but I tried to fall asleep again, hoping he'd leave and I could prevent the disaster. I thought I've had the best plan. I thought I was so clever.

I was rather pleased with my plan until I heard he walked next to my bed and sat on the chair.

I was curled up and faced him, so I tiredly, sleepily opened my eyes. I was wrapped up with the blanket, half of my face was under it. But as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw he was looking at the visible parts of my face and his eyes found mine immediately.

I started to feel hot under the duvet for some reason. I've been here, alone, in the past few days, and I managed not to only break a doctor's wrist, but also lose weight. I had to admit, from the outside, it didn't look promising at all, I was sure. I could see life’s been hard with him as well. Coupled with John's report and his current back-from-the-dead ordeal, Mycroft must've felt... well, _shit._

I wasn't surprised when I saw his cheeks were slightly more shallow, I wasn't surprised he seemed more pale. But his eyes, of course, were smart and burning.

He was pissed. At me. Again. And not because I broke the wrist of that doc.

 _"Explain"_ , was all he said when I didn't move.

I let out a quiet whine and curled up more. _I missed you so much_ , I thought, desperately, and didn't dare to blink. Again, I was afraid he'd disappear...

"Come on", he nudged me quietly and he sounded _so_ tired. **_Drained._** "How could you lose weight when — as you've said — you've been eating?"

I knew he knew how. But he made it clear he wanted me to confess. And it wasn't an easy task. I swallowed and clawed at the sheets under me.

"Don't care about it", I mumbled and his eyes darkened.

"Well **_I do._** " He stated with calm coldness. "And you _will_ tell me. How is this possible?"

"You know."

_"Elisabeth."_

"The scale is probably wrong."

 ** _"Elisabeth!"_** He snapped and raised his voice already. "You can fool them but not me!"

At this, my lips quivered and I rolled on my other side under the duvet, showing my back to him. I pulled the duvet over my head and felt the tears stung my eyes. He didn’t care. He was lying. He left me here and he was just trying to make me believe he cared but he only came here to get his anger and frustration out at me.

Mycroft sighed. He didn’t move. The minutes passed and I stayed like that, knowing sooner or later he’d go away. Just like he did before.

“Elisabeth, I’m too tired for this.”

His voice was quiet and gentle, this time. I missed it so much. I pushed my hands on my face under the duvet. My throat was tight and I tried to literally push the tears back.

“Then go home and sleep”, I cried.

“Come on”, he sighed again and I felt him move. He sat on the edge of my bed and his hand touched my shoulder. I jerked a little, just like a few days before when he found me. I trembled under his touch. “I brought you here so they could keep their eyes on you. If I brought you back to my house, you’d need to be alone. I have a lot of work since I came back.”

“I don’t care”, I protested.

“I know you do”, he said gently and pulled the duvet off of my head to see my face. He ran his fingers in my hair and I shivered, still with my hands on my face. “I miss you.” He said softly and it made me cry more. “I want you to be back at work, so I’d know you’re near me. But you can’t come in this state. You need to get your strength back first.”

“I’m fine”, I said and rubbed my eyes.

“No”, Mycroft ran his hand in my hair again. “You need to heal.”

I turned my head just to look up at him and new tears gathered in my eyes. I felt so betrayed and lost.

“You’ve left me here, completely alone”, I whimpered as the tears ran down across my temples and into my hair, “you’ve abandoned me…”

“No, no, I didn’t”, he protested but I didn’t care.

“When you knew I can’t… I won’t…”

“Elisabeth, listen to me”, he said again but I shook my head.

“No, _you_ listen to _me_ ”, I whimpered, “you’ve completely forgot on purpose that I… hate… being separated from you…”

“I thought it’d be the best course of action to ensure…”

“When did anything good happen from us being apart?” I didn’t pay attention to his words. “What happened when I went to disable that bomb or when I locked you in your office? And when I went on that mission alone? It never ends well, don’t you think?”

I saw he swallowed. Mycroft thought for a few moments before he started to play with my hair again.

“You’re right”, he said quietly, “I’ve made a mistake.” I stayed silent and I calmed down completely. “Even though I tried to do what’s the best for you.”

“I know”, I mumbled. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. We’ll get your things and I’ll take you to my house. On one condition.” At his last sentence, his expression hardened once again and I sighed, because I knew what he wanted to say.

“I know, I have to eat.”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, finally, then got up and looked at my suitcase, from which I didn’t take out anything.

“Then you should get dressed and we can go.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t want to spend more time here than it is absolutely necessary.”

At this, I sat up. I completely forgot I had my nightgown on, which didn’t cover my shoulders. I saw Mycroft froze and I saw he was looking at my shoulder. I instinctively pulled the duvet up on myself. I knew he saw Sherrinford’s bitemark in my skin.

“I’ll wait outside”, he said and left the room.

His reaction made me feel nervous. I removed the needle from my hand, got up, changed to a shirt and jeans. I combed my hair. I tried to move as fast as I could, but every movement was painful. I wondered how bad it would be without the morphine. I got a hoodie and my jacket on as I hissed, then grabbed my suitcase and I wanted to lift it when I realised I couldn’t. I also felt dizzy and my lips were dry. I tasted the menthol – I’ve brushed my teeth earlier today –, but I barely had saliva. With a frown, I walked to the door and opened it. Mycroft looked at me above his shoulder. I was severely disappointed with myself.

“I can’t… I can’t lift up my suitcase”, I admitted as I kept staring at his shoes, defeated.

“It’s fine”, he said, but I felt he tensed up again. He came in the room to grab my suitcase and I put my phones away. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.”

 

The next few hours the pain only got worse and worse.

I’ve got the salves and directions when to use what, I also got painkillers. The car ride was an absolute torture. Mycroft warned Phil to go slow, because he saw I was in pain, but that was nothing compared to the amount of agony I felt when the morphine left my system. I couldn’t move. I was lying in my bed with Ninnie and I wanted to get some painkillers, but I couldn’t raise my hand to grab the pills. So I stayed, numb, suffering, with my cat’s warm little body next to my left hand as she purred herself to sleep.

She was so happy I was back here, just like me.

Mycroft probably thought I was asleep. I told him I’d try to rest, but with this amount of pain it was simply impossible. My skin was burning and my muscles ached. I wanted to scream. With gritted teeth, I counted the flowers on the canopy for the hundredth time. I had no idea after how much time, but I still managed to doze off. Then I’ve had a nightmare in which Sherrinford violated me again, from which I woke up screaming. I sat up in the bed and saw Ninnie running away. I ran my hands in my hair and pulled it. I heard a knock and I jerked from fear.

“Are you alright?”

“No”, I cried and the door opened, revealing a distressed Mycroft.

“Could you sleep?” He asked as he walked over to my bed and stopped near it. He probably remembered the last time I was in panic and remorse filled me when I recalled how I scratched his arms. I pulled my hair. “Do you want me to hold you?”

“Ye-yes”, I whimpered.

Mycroft sat next to me and wrapped me in a warm, gentle embrace. I let my hair go and got a firm hold on his waistcoat on his back and hid my face in his chest. His warmth and scent started to calm me down slowly and he also tried to help me as he stroked my head and continued talking to me.

"I've just finished cooking dinner", he said softly and I tried to stop trembling. "I bought a cook book, can you imagine. I've made some spaghetti à la Carbonara. It tastes amazing. I'm proud of myself. Do you want to try?"

What he said slowly started to gain understanding in my head. He _cooked_. Probably just because I was here with him. I tried to ease up, but I honestly didn't want to let him go.

"Yes", I said quietly.

 "Good", he stroked my head again. "Do you want to come down with me?"

"Yes", I sniffed and I tried to loosen my hold around him. When he pulled away, I looked down. "I'm sorry."

It upset me I was so weak. It upset me he had to see me in this vulnerable state. It upset me to know he saw how I fell apart because of Sherrinford. But he, on the other hand, didn't really seem to care about it. Or rather, he didn't show me it upset him too.

"It's alright. Don't apologise. Shall we go down?"

I nodded a few times and he let me go and got up. I followed him to the kitchen. It really did smell good. I sat down gingerly - every movement hurt and he saw -, and noticed he already put everything to its place. The plates and the cutlery was waiting. He either knew I'd say yes, or he was determined he'd bring me down, no matter what. I slowly got some of the spaghetti in my plate. Not much, because I didn't know how my system would react to it, but at least a little. Mycroft watched, then he got some of it in his own plate.

I watched him as he got his fork up and our eyes met. For a moment, I hesitated, then picked up my own fork and with a sigh, I started to eat. I hummed. My tastebuds went crazy. My eyes slightly widened.

"This— this is very delicious", I said quietly and Mycroft smiled as he ate some as well.

"Told you, didn't I?"

I ate my portion. Then I got some more for myself. When he saw this, he seemed so relieved I felt bad for refusing to eat before. Mycroft stood and poured something in a glass at the fridge, then walked over to me and placed it next to my plate.

"Thank you", I mumbled and drank from it when I finished my second portion.

I nearly cried. It was peach.

We both went back to our own rooms after dinner and bid each other goodnight. I took two painkillers and lied on my back. As I stared at the ceiling – the light on the nightstand was on –, I kept thinking why I couldn’t fall asleep. I ate. I was full. I also knew Mycroft was in the next room, so I wasn’t as alone as I was in the hospital. Ninnie was here next to me. If I didn’t move, my injuries didn’t hurt as much and I was warm and comfortable.

Why couldn’t I fall asleep?

I started to turn from one side to the other. After half an hour I sat up and picked up my phone to check the time. I was exhausted, and it was only ten.

“Damn it”, I sighed to myself, then kicked the duvet off of my legs, turned the light off and walked out of my room.

I looked to the left and right on the corridor, checked the paintings in the soft light, then my eyes stopped at Mycroft’s door. My heart jumped up in my throat as I closed my own door. I was wondering if he heard it in there. I never heard if he was moving around before, so maybe he didn’t. I walked to his door and hesitated, my hand on his door’s knob. As I bit my lip I thought what he’d say if I just walked in his room and joined him in his bed, because that was what I wanted to do. Something told me I’d feel much safer in his arms than in alone in my room and the urge to give this a try was getting stronger with each second. What would he say? Would he be surprised or angry? I continued chewing my lip, hard. Then I remembered what he told me so long ago.

_Did you know I’m right there in the next room? Wouldn’t it be easier to just come over? I wouldn’t make fun of you if you told me you wanted to be with me..._

I didn’t knock. There was no light on, but he was awake, I heard he stirred in his bed.

“Elisabeth”, he said quietly, “what’s wrong?”

I didn’t say anything and he turned on a light next to his bed and looked at me. I was nervous as I closed his door, then walked over to his bed and hesitated again. His eyes found mine and I saw he was confused, worried, even. I couldn’t even imagine what could be on his mind. I reached for his duvet, lifted it a little, then climbed next to him in his bed. My heart pounded against my ribs, fast and hard as I snuggled to him.

Mycroft didn’t say anything, just turned off the light and wrapped his arm around me with the duvet protectively. As I rested my head against his chest, I heard his heart was racing too. I smiled. I knew I’d be able to fall asleep now.

I was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad with this chapter. Poor Mycroft is so exhausted he can't even argue anymore. >w>  
> THOUGH! This story now is 199 pages in my word document and I've already managed to write 100.000+ words to it! This is the longest story I've written in my entire life and we're VERY far away from its end! :O  
> I love this slow burn, I hope you do, too. <3


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „No. I want to know why did you lie to me.”

The sound of birds chirping happily. That was what woke me up. After a few moments there was silence, then the birds chirped happily again. I realised it was the sound of Mycroft's alarm.

"Hmm", he hummed and I felt the pillow under me vibrate.

Well, I realised a moment later, it wasn't the pillow. It was _his chest._ I felt the blush rise on my cheeks. I was lying on his chest, one of my legs sprawled across both of his, one of my arms tightly wrapped around his waist. I practically didn't let him move at all. One of his arms was on my back, the other was on my arm which was around his waist. He lifted that to stop his alarm. I wondered briefly if we spent the night like this... I couldn't remember, since I've been as deep asleep as it was humanly possible. My body was aching and I didn't want to move at all.

"Elisabeth", he whispered and I didn't move.

"Hmm?" I mumbled and I felt his fingers in my hair.

"I should get up."

"Nooo..." I whined quietly and I held onto him tighter.

"We can have breakfast together, would you like that?" As he spoke, I heard he was smiling.

"Yes but... five more minutes, please..."

"Alright", said Mycroft quietly and he started to play with my hair.

Now that some light came in his room from outside, I noticed he was wearing a dark blue silk pyjama with small, light blue coloured fleur-de-lis on it. I closed my eyes again and smiled. So this was my problem, not like I suspected before. This was why I couldn't sleep in the hospital for longer periods of time.

He simply wasn't near me and I instinctively couldn't rest.

I almost fell asleep again when he hummed once more.

"I really need to get up."

I whined quietly, but started to slowly pull myself back to his side. When I was curled up, he sat up and looked down at me with a smile.

"Sleep well?" He asked as he started to get up, making sure he put his duvet back on me. Once again, I felt like a tiny burrito, all wrapped up in his scent which meant safety for me. I nodded, but couldn't smile, because I knew he was about to leave me again. As he sat on the edge of his bed, he ran his fingers in my hair. "You can stay here, all day, if you want to."

I closed my eyes and thought, _why would it be a good idea? **You** won't be here with me._ I momentarily thought about how he said he was selfish, and here I am, thinking these thoughts. Maybe both of us were selfish. But at this point, I didn’t care. He got up and walked to his wardrobe, then chose himself a three piece. He brought an entire outfit in his bathroom and closed the door. I crawled to his bed's edge, then sat up. I couldn't bring myself to feel better about today, so I simply got to my feet and walked into my room. After I took a painkiller, I did my morning routine and got dressed in a shirt and trousers. Strangely enough, I was hungry. I walked down in the kitchen where he already was waiting for me — with a croissant and a new glass of peach.

"You don't have to do this", I mumbled, and sat down, grimacing and hissing from the pain.

Mycroft sat as well, I saw in his eyes he was worried, but he didn't ask or comment on my condition.

"I want to."

"Okay", I picked up the croissant and realised it was warm. I blinked, confused, then I took a bite and smiled at him. He had the same and started to eat when I did. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank anything", he said quietly and I shook my head.

"On the contrary."

"Would you like company?" He asked, and I concentrated to eat my food. I wanted company, _yes._ **_His._** Not anyone else's. But I knew what he'd say to that. So I shrugged. "I was thinking of asking John and Sherlock to come over. What do you think?"

I looked at him as I chewed another bite. I knew why he was saying this, I knew his plan. He didn't want me to be completely alone. I wondered briefly if his trust in me was still total or not. I thought maybe my last night action made him believe I didn't want to be alone at all. Which was true. But I only needed him and he clearly didn't see that. Or didn't think it was him who was necessary for me to maintain my calmness. How could this be possible?

"Thank you, but I don't need babysitters", I said then, and I saw his eyes momentarily darken.

"It'd make me feel better if you had someone over", he said quietly and at that, I felt a lump form in my throat.

"I don't need _'someone'_ ", I replied quietly and I could see he was confused by my words.

"Then who do you need?"

I stared at him. Then blinked rapidly. He couldn't see? Why? How? Everything was obvious to him, how come he didn't notice _this?_ Or... or he did, he just wanted to hear me say it.

"I don't want you to be away from me", I sighed and ate the last of my croissant.

He smiled faintly and sipped his tea, then leaned back in his chair.

"It won't be long before I come back, you know that."

"You're still leaving me."

I wondered why did his face look so... _soft._

"Not in that sense, Elisabeth."

I fidgeted with my shirt and looked down at it. Not in what sense, really? I swallowed.

"I want to go with you..."

"Not yet. Not until you're in so much pain. I’ll also need to sort out a lot of things there. Meetings, interrogations, and the like. I need to fight my way back. It won’t be easy.” I looked up at him. Just how much did he sacrifice in order to bring me back, really? He sipped the last of his tea and sighed as he looked down in his china. „I most certainly will be mean throughout the day – and the week –, and I know you don’t like that. So it is best this way.”

I put my hands in my lap and I thought about the word he used a moment ago.

„Interrogations?” I echoed and his lips twitched. He didn’t reply. I narrowed my eyes. „Who will interrogate who?”

„Let’s just imagine I managed to get hold of a few people who’re very close to Sherrinford.” He leaned forward to me, his eyes serious. I held his gaze. „Let’s imagine I brought said people back here to get information out of them where he might be. I must talk to them.”

„Why can’t we just move on?” I found myself desperately wanting to change the subject, to even forget that he existed.

„I can’t do that, Elisabeth. He’s still out there, I need to catch him and put him back where he belongs. Before he does even more damage…”

„He said you named that place after him”, I mumbled and his face became expressionless. „And that you… locked him up there with other ’bad’ people.”

„I had to.”

„Why?”

He leaned back again.

„You’ve met him. You know what he’s capable of. And you ask me why?”

„No. I want to know why did you lie to me.”

At this, his expression betrayed he wasn’t expecting this sentence from me.

„I only told you a _portion_ of the truth.”

I found myself being a little angry at him.

„A portion of the truth.”

„Yes.”

I stared at him for a few moments before I cleared my throat.

„If there’s this _facility_ , which, I think, is heavily guarded, how the Hell could he come out and do all the things he’d done without you knowing?”

At this, he seemed a bit less detached.

„He somehow managed to get out. As a matter of fact, he’s supposed to be the smartest of us. I’ve yet to discover how was he capable of doing this…”

„Maybe he had help from the outside?”

„That _should be_ impossible.”

„Why is that?”

„Because he’s not supposed to know anyone but me.” Mycroft’s _’it’s so obvious’_ answer hit me hard.

"But why didn't you recognise him?"

"He had a completely different face and voice. I have to think he wanted to toy with me. And he succeeded. He fooled me. As you've said, he was right under my nose the whole time and I was so damned blind I couldn't notice him." He sighed and looked at his plate. I bit my lip. I didn’t like where this was going at all, but I still wanted to know more. When he looked up, he saw this on my face. „Elisabeth, I really should leave soon. I have to do a lot today.”

„I know. I just… I’d like to prepare myself for the future.”

„I won’t let him near you ever again.”

He wasn’t simply saying this, it sounded like it was a pledge. I believed him. I nodded, then picked up my glass again and drank as I watched him check his watch.

„What about your sister?”

Mycroft froze completely. I saw it on his face he wasn’t expecting this at all and it was him who got hit by my words this time. He looked up at me – expression carefully guarded –, and stayed silent for the longest period of time, frozen in this mid-movement.

„He said you locked him and her up there and that she was brilliant.” I could see the blood literally leave his face. I was slightly afraid to push it further, but I was hungry to see his reactions to my knowledge about his family. It seemed to me he didn’t like it at all that I knew this much. „While I appreciate you trying to protect me, who will protect _you_? I mean I know, you just told me Sherrinford was the smartest, but he, on the other hand, said your sister was that… what if she, I don’t know, maybe they got out together?”

I didn’t miss how Mycroft’s hand shook just a little as he slipped his watch back in his pocket. He swallowed and his eyes looked so serious. I could see he took everything I’ve said into consideration, that it was something he didn’t think of earlier.

„I’d know if she…” He cut off, then just repeated what he said a few moments earlier. „ ** _I’d know._** ”

„How?” I tilted my head. „You’ve just came back.”

„Don’t care about these things for a while, okay?” He shot to his feet and walked towards the living room. I followed him despite I was in pain. „I’ll send Sherlock over.”

„I don’t…” I tried to protest, but he stopped and stared at me sternly in the eye.

„You do. **Don’t** _argue_ with me.”

„I can protect myself, just give me a gun”, I crossed my arms on my chest.

„No. Not yet.”

I looked back at him, clearly hurt.

„There. So you don’t trust me anymore.”

At this, he sighed and stepped closer to me. He cupped my face in his hands and I felt hotness rush into my cheeks.

„Of course I trust you”, he said gently, „but you’ve been through so much. We need a little time before you can carry a weapon around, alright?”

„To make sure I’m not crazy?” I sighed, defeated and I tried to look away from his face but he was too close…

„I know you’re not crazy.”

I wanted to say something when the entrance’s bell rang. Mycroft’s eyebrows twitched just slightly, then he let me go and went to open the door. I sighed again and cursed in mind who the Hell could disturb us at seven in the morning. _Dawn!_ It wasn’t even morning! I was still sulking when I joined Mycroft and the visitor and _lo behold_ – _it was the Old Hag._

If this morning wasn’t a fucking emotional rollercoaster for the both of us, the bitch flashed the biggest possible smile on Mycroft. That _was._ Until she noticed me.

„Hi”, I tossed it at her and she stiffened up completely.

„Good morning, Miss Lone.”

I thought of what she could think why was I here in Mycroft’s house. Especially by the look of me. When I looked in the mirror earlier, I still looked exhausted – dark circles under my eyes, shallow cheeks –, but at least my hair was in a better condition and my lips weren’t that dry and pale anymore. I sized her up; she had a perfect black suit on with skirt, under her jacket a crisp white blouse, her blonde hair in a bun and the make up… gosh her make up. I tried to like it, I really did, but I still thought she tried so fucking hard to look young and she _failed._ **_Miserably!_** And her _neck_. **_Oh God._** She was a fucking **_mummy._** And an ugly one at that.

And she – I nearly screamed with laughter – looked at Mycroft. And the _way_ she did that. _Oh damn._ This was so entertaining. And I felt so fucking jealous. _Jealous?_ **No.** I wasn't jealous. I was **_terratorial_**.

„I’ve heard you’ve came back”, she batted her eyelashes at him and I could see him slightly tense up.

„Have you?” He asked quietly.

„I thought you died.”

I snorted. Really? Have you? You fucking bitch. And did you mourn? In any way? Or you just moved on to the next piece of meat on the market? I bet you cried for a night then scheduled a date with someone else while I was raped and broken, wishing I’d die just as he did when I believed he was gone. Mycroft looked back at me above his shoulder – his expression told me he was just thinking ’see? See what I’ll have to explain to everyone today?’ – and I gave him a grimace. He rolled his eyes at my reaction.

„That was the plan.” He turned back to Lady Smallwood and she looked so confused.

„But why didn’t you tell me?”

Did she really think she was **_so_** important to him that he’d tell her of his plans? Who did she think she was? **_Honestly?_** Fine, I wasn’t a great mind and I certainly wasn’t a politician like her, I’ve had no knowledge of 99% of the happenings in the big machine, but still. How could she think so high of herself?!

„Do forgive me for asking this, Lady Smallwood, but do you have a **_cabbage_** in your skull instead of a brain?” I crossed my arms on my chest and looked up at the ceiling as if I was just wondering out loud. „What makes you think Mr Holmes would tell you his plans about anything? What he does is none of your business.”

„Excuse me”, I looked at her and she was staring at me. I smiled. She snarled. „I couldn’t hear anything but the blabbering of a secretary, who, in fact, should know her place.”

I’ve had no idea what happened to me, but I found myself snarling back with gritted teeth. Mycroft groaned and hid his face in his right hand.

„You're _so_ **_ignorant_** ”, I spat back, „tells me enough about you that he never told you who am I.”

„Who are you, then?” She raised her voice and Mycroft groaned again.

„Please stop.”

I didn’t care about him and Lady Smallwood didn’t care about him either.

"Why don't you find out yourself if you're so damned clever? Oh _wait_. You haven't even realised why am I here, right? Are you really that thick?"

At this, she moved towards me, but Mycroft was between us and he didn't even flinch.

“You whore!” She spat and I grinned. Finally. She sunk this low. The dragon started to show her fangs. “It'd take me a _single word_ to get rid of you!”

"Really?" I laughed. "And how exactly would you do that?"

It seemed to me she completely forgot why she came, where she was, because at this, her expression smoothed out. As much as it could. _Wrinkles._

"I have the perfect man for the job. Bad he's gone missing, too, in the past few months."

Mycroft stiffened up. I did, too. I taunted more, because I wanted to get that man's identity out of her of which she spoke about. I knew at this point she’d probably tell me anything I wanted to know, she was too angry to think at the moment.

"No man is a match for me", I scoffed, "but enlighten me. At least I'll know his name when I get rid of him."

Lady Smallwood flashed a wicked grin. She was so taken with trying to destroy me with words that she didn't even suspect what she'd say next would put her in an interrogation room as well. She straightened her back and looked all so mighty as she next spoke.

"Mr Holton probably would _love_ to meet you."

I didn't know what Mycroft did, but her smile disappeared immediately.

"Get in the car", I heard his stern voice snap at her.

"Bu—"

Even I jumped when Mycroft shouted.

**_"Now!"_ **

When she did, he turned to me with an unreadable expression.

"I've told you. You’re safest here. I need to fight my way back, to make sure we’re safe there, too."

I didn't realise how pale I was. He stepped closer to me and took my hands in his.

"I've had no idea", he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. I expected her to try and get rid of me", I huffed.

As Mycroft looked back at me, I saw an unusual glint in his eyes. He watched me, and I wanted to know what he was thinking.

"What?" I asked then.

"I thought..." He brought his eyebrows closer to each other and rubbed my knuckles. I wanted to purr. It felt so good, his hands were so warm. "That last time when you realised he's still out there, your reaction... and now, nothing."

"Oh come on. You should know I'm strong."

I've tried to shake it off. And I've tried to turn that fear into anger. It seemed my plans worked, at least somewhat. Mycroft, though, kept looking in my eyes, doubting.

"We'll need a professional, you know?" He asked and I sighed and nodded. "Okay. I really have to go."

"Right." I looked at our hands and tried to fight back the lump in my throat. I didn't want him to go, to leave. "Have a nice day."

 _Wow, that sounded so **domestic**._ I heard him chuckle, then he lifted up my fingers and kissed them. The heat rushed in my face again. **What—** **_what the Hell??_**

"You, too", he replied quietly, then let my hands go, slow, turned around and walked out the door, closing it behind himself, flashing a half smile at me just before he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Portion of the truth'. Oh, dear, dear Mycroft...


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You're just another chore."

I couldn’t find my place.

Both Sherlock and John brought their laptops and I brought to the living room mine, too, but I just couldn’t concentrate on anything. After a few hours, I wandered in the kitchen and opened the fridge’s door, just to do something with myself. Maybe I could cook? Would he like it if I made some food? As I chewed on my lower lip and scanned the fridge, I noticed something in the lower parts of it. I pushed a yogurt out of the way. That green thing was a **_broccoli._**

I couldn’t believe my eyes. _He doesn’t like broccoli._ I chewed on my lip harder. He put this broccoli there _for me_ , because he knew I liked it. I closed the fridge’s door and reached for my business phone which had been awfully quiet all day. I unlocked the screen, then watched as it went black, then unlocked it again. I opened my messages and looked at his last text.

**If I find out that you’re refusing to eat, I will not be happy. Rest, then do me a favour and eat.**

I started to type him a message.

_Are you safe?_

It hit me now that I was close to chaos mentally because I had no idea if he was safe or not. The anxiety started to shake my limbs. I wrapped my left arm around my chest and leaned against the fridge for support as I waited for him to reply. Minutes passed. My chest started to hurt. _He’s alright, he has to be, he’s fine, he’s just very busy. Calm down. Calm down. **CALM DOWN!**_ The panic made me wheeze. My hands went numb. _Grounding, I have to do the **grounding…** but he’s not around and I need… **I need him…**_ my phone buzzed and I unlocked it immediately with shaking fingers and saw his reply.

**Of course I am safe. I’ll have salmon for lunch, and you?**

I let out a shaky, quiet, weak laugh and slid down to the floor while I still leaned against the fridge. My legs couldn’t keep me up any longer.

„Are you alright?”

Sherlock’s calm and quiet voice alarmed me. _Shit._ I completely forgot they were here with me. I looked at him – he stood at the kitchen’s entrance – and he looked serious. I wondered for how long he’s been standing there. He probably saw everything.

„Yeah, I just… I wanted to eat something.”

My excuse would’ve been good if I wasn’t still trembling and wasn’t sitting on the floor. I tried to get up quickly. He walked over to me and helped me to my feet; I noticed he looked at the phone’s screen. I forgot to navigate away from the message screen. _Damn it._

„Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked and I shook my head.

„There’s some leftover spaghetti carbonara. I’ll just put that in the micro…”

„What, did he cook?”

„Yes, he did.”

I laughed a little when I saw the slight shock on his face. I opened the fridge again and got the said food out, then put it on the counter. Sherlock watched my movements.

„Were you joking?” He asked.

„Why would I?” I smiled again, putting some of the food in a plate, then I put it in the micro.

When I looked up at him again, he seemed he was deep in thought.

„Interesting”, he said then.

„You can go back to John, I’m alright, thank you.”

„Fine”, he nodded, „but tell me when you need company.”

„Will do.”

Once the food was warm enough, I sat down and snapped a picture of it, then sent it to Mycroft.

_I’m going to have this perfect spaghetti again._

I started to eat and thought yes, this was still delicious, despite the fact it’s been cooked yesterday. I spotted the mentioned cookbook on the counter, so I decided I’d check it out later. Maybe I really could cook something for dinner. Again, I felt like this was way too domestic, but I tried to shake it off. I just wanted to express my gratitude, just like I wanted to do that before those months… I immediately picked up my phone when it buzzed.

**I’ll have to cook this again if you like it so much.**

_Absolutely._

He sent me a picture of his desk with a plastic box on it in which there were a piece of smoked salmon with vegetables.

_Looks delicious._

**I’d let you have a bite if you were here.**

_:(_

**Why’s that face? What did I do wrong?**

I smiled, sadly. Did he forget it on purpose? Or… or he really didn’t think what I said I really meant? And the way he asked _’what did I do wrong’…_ so he didn’t do this on purpose? I was so confused.

_It’s just I want to be there with you. I’m sorry._

**Oh no! I didn’t want to make you feel like this.**

_I know, it’s alright. It’s just… I miss you so much._

**_Desperate._** I sounded fucking desperate. **_Goddamnit._** _Why?!_ I knew this was supposed to happen, he’d be far away from me sometimes, he needed to concentrate on his work and I only held him back but I just **couldn’t fucking help myself.** I _craved_ his presence. Being away from him felt like an unbearable, constant pressure on me. I shouldn’t feel this way, this wasn’t right and it could do more damage to me. This wasn’t useful at all…

**I miss you too. But I’ll be home soon. Only 4 hours.**

I looked at my phone’s clock immediately. Then I blushed and moaned to myself. _I can’t be this desperate, this is ridiculous!! **I must knock this off.**_ I took a picture of my empty plate and sent it to him as a reply.

**Good girl.**

_Oh my God you **don’t**. You really **shouldn’t** , Mycroft._

He sent me a picture of his empty plastic box, and I laughed quietly to myself.

_Thank you, I feel better now._

The minutes just slowly melted into hours. After a certain time, I started to feel it again. I went through my most basic needs. _Hungry?_ **No.** _Thirsty?_ **No.** _Sleepy?_ **No.** When I got up and started to walk up and down, John followed my movements with his eyes. I didn't feel right. It felt like something was just above my head, hanging there, threatening me to crush my bones to dust. The chest pain returned. What could be possibly wrong? Because _something_ was wrong. I checked the time on my phone. He said he'd be home in 4 hours. 2 passed. I checked the messages again I sighed. Of course! This... _this_ had to be the problem. I typed a message for him again.

_Are you safe?_

When my phone buzzed and I saw his message, I sighed, relieved.

**I am safe, Elisabeth. Don't worry.**

"You know, worrying about him is illogical", Sherlock said and I groaned. "He's well guarded."

"The hitman you showed me ages ago simply turned up at his office and would've killed him if it wasn't me there."

When I said this, the chest pain got worse. I tried to straighten my back to get rid of it, to no avail.

"That was then", Sherlock grumbled as he kept typing on his laptop, "now he has guards everywhere."

"And do you think having guards is all that's needed?"

At this, he looked at me with a certain look on his face. As if worrying about Mycroft wasn't simply illogical, but also incredibly weird. As if I was crazy for it.

"Yes. He's going to be fine. Trust me on that."

As he looked back at his laptop's screen, I noticed he still had that look on his face.

"Why do you find it strange that I worry for him?" I asked, because I couldn't figure it out on my own.

"Because nobody ever does", came the quiet reply and he didn't even look at me.

 ** _Nobody ever does._** I found myself feeling weird as well. How come nobody does? As nobody, the people working for him? Not just them. Even Sherlock? Yes. He's definitely included in that group. It's visible. He sat here, looking bored to death and he was totally not going through what I went through. He was confident nothing bad would happen. Of course, he had no idea what a crazy man Sherrinford was, but Sherrinford wasn't the only one in this world who'd try to cause harm to Mycroft and still, he wasn't worried.

Sherlock probably had no idea about Sherrinford and his identity. If he did, he wouldn't be this calm...

I got up again and walked in the kitchen. I grabbed the cookbook and opened it, browsing through the recipes. It's been so long since I prepared food. _Months._ I felt so alien here. I gathered the materials, then opened the top drawer and – I frowned. I haven’t noticed it before when I ate, probably because I was too absorbed in my phone. But now, I realised a serious problem. The knives were _missing._ **_All of the knives._**

My right eye twitched.

“Well, after all those words of trust… _here it is._ This is the proof. You’re **_not_** to be _trusted_.”

I turned my head to the left and Mycroft was there – but it wasn’t the real Mycroft. My hands started to tremble. He had pitch black suit on with the crimson red tie, but he looked more real than before. He smiled.

“Come on. Did you think you’ve seen the last of me?”

My eyes widened. I shook my head and didn’t dare to blink. He smiled wider, his expression was almost… dark.

“How can you be so sure what you experience here is real?” He looked around as he started to push himself away from the wall. I took a step back, horrified. “How can you be so sure you’re really here, now?”

 _He’s not real,_ I thought to myself and I slowly pushed the drawer back to its place. He didn’t even flinch. I blinked. He was still there, slowly moving towards me, like a tiger, ready to pounce.

“There was a time you’ve fainted when Sherrinford kicked you”, he said and his expression grew darker, “what if you just imagine all of this and you’re not safe?”

“Lies”, I whispered and he laughed – cruel and cold.

“You want to believe that. You want to believe that so desperately. And even if it was real, tell me: with Sherrinford still out there, what hope do you have? We both know you can only escape him if you die.”

I shook my head and looked to the entrance of the kitchen, but he remained.

“Oh come now. Don’t tell me you’re _that_ weak. That would be beyond ridiculous.”

I ran out from the kitchen. John looked up and his neutral expression immediately showed worry. Did I look that bad?

“What happened?” He asked and I sighed as I walked back to them.

“I can’t find the knives”, I said, guarding my expression once more, just when Sherlock looked up at me.

“Ah yes. Thought you’d notice. What do you need a knife for?”

I gave Sherlock a rather annoyed look.

“I’d like to cook.”

“Unnecessary.”

“I’m bored!”

“Then watch something, or listen to music, or better yet, sleep. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

_That, in fact, was right._

“Do you even believe in ghosts?”

“Ghosts of the past, yes.”

I had to agree with him. I had many ghosts of the past haunting me, too.

“ _Please_ ”, I sighed, “I’d like to be useful.”

“I could help her”, John offered and looked at Sherlock who glanced back at him like he knew exactly John would offer this.

“Alright.” He sighed and got up. “Well I’m needed then, because it’s hidden somewhere high and either of you would reach it. Stay here.”

“Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous”, I rolled my eyes and Sherlock grinned at me.

“He’s making sure of everything.”

“Well then he gets the talk when he gets home”, I rolled my eyes and John laughed while Sherlock looked like he didn’t understand the joke.

Though, at least, he got a knife down for us to use. Of course he told John I couldn’t touch it. I tried not to feel hurt while I heard the hallucination Mycroft’s words in my head again.

 _You’re **not** to be _ trusted _._

I’ve found myself trying to find excuses for all of this. After all, he did this for my safety. He didn’t do it because he didn’t trust me, he simply just wants to make sure I wouldn’t do anything silly… to myself. I remembered the look on his face when he saw I scracthed my arms under the shower the first night. And even though I didn’t do any harm to myself on purpose, he made it very clear he didn’t even want me to do that.

He wanted me to be safe. And that reason was good enough for me. It only meant I was important to him and that actually felt really good.

We were halfway done with the food when I noticed the chest pain again. John was checking something when my hand tremble on its own. He watched that, then looked up at my face. I realised my breathing was short and shallow. _Oh **no**. Not **this** again._ John opened his mouth to say something when I felt my phone buzz. I got it out of my pocket and unlocked the screen. Mycroft sent a message.

**I’m safe, Elisabeth.**

My hands started to shake again and I let out a weak laugh. _He noticed._ He didn’t know and couldn’t possibly imagine how I felt around the time I messaged him if he was safe, but he definitely realised there was a pattern. I could only go for so long before I started to worry for him again and he could stop it from getting worse.

Didn’t matter how busy he was today, he remembered it was important to me and took the time to reassure me.

“Is something wrong?” John asked and I smiled at him.

“No, everything’s fine.”

The pain slowly subsided, then I typed down a message, realising I had tears in my eyes. I quickly rubbed them away.

_Thank you so much._

I looked at the time and sighed when I saw there was still an hour left. I probably should and try to be less anxious about it all. I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t want to hide in his chest once he arrived home. I felt I blushed. Goddamnit! This is ridiculous! With a huff, I put my phone away.

“I’m going to have a shower”, I declared and I marched up in my room without waiting for a reply.

Under the hot water I tried to rub away the feelings and the panic. I must stop acting like a child. Or a damsel in distress. I must show him and to Sherlock and John that I am really stronger than they think I am. They have to see I can handle myself and any and all hardships. I have to get rid of this anxiety.

I decided I wouldn’t climb in his bed tonight.

I tried to stay in my room for as long as I could push myself when I heard he arrived home. Only when I heard Sherlock and John left did I wander down to the living room. He was taking off his suit’s jacket.

_Well, **shit,** oh no. **Must** you do **this** to me._

“I thought you were asleep”, he said with a smile.

I crossed my arms on my chest and smiled back. _No, **don’t**. **Don’t** go closer to him. Don’t show him how much you’ve **missed** him. You’re strong, you **don’t** need it, showing that would be **weakness!**_

“I wanted to make sure you had dinner”, I replied.

“Have that dinner with me, then”, he challenged and I saw his eyes scanned my posture, my expression.

What could he see on me? What were those unwritten words about my appearance he saw? Even if he saw something, he didn’t say anything, just cocked a brow and turned away to go in the kitchen. We got plates and cutlery for ourselves, then sat and ate in silence. I kept reminding myself to keep my eyes on my food, but damnit it was so hard. Even his scent tried to drive me nuts.

“How was your day?” He asked then, and I finally looked up in his eyes.

His pupils were so wide I could practically see my pale reflection in them. I swallowed a mouthful.

“I almost died from boredom.” I whined. Mycroft hummed. We ate for a few minutes again, this time, I kept my eyes on his face and kept thinking _oh fuck I **missed** this stupid face._ “For how long will you keep me locked up here?”

“Just until it’s absolutely necessary.”

He remained calm when he visibly had a long day. The way he sat gave away he was exhausted. I wanted to ask him the same question, but didn’t dare to. He wouldn’t give me details anyway.

“See how he is?” I heard his voice, but he wasn’t talking. My eyes darted up and away, just above his shoulder. My hallucination stood there with a cocky smirk. “He doesn’t want you, he doesn’t trust you. You’re not needed. You’re just another chore.”

I shut my eyes tight and tried not to hear it, but it was too late. My hunger was gone. I finished my food but I didn’t feel the taste of it.

“I’ll go to bed”, I said when I put my plate in the sink, thinking I’d deal with it later.

“Elisabeth”, Mycroft said quietly. I stopped in the door and turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

I lied. I wasn’t sure he knew I lied. But he didn’t say anything else, so I walked up in my room and locked the door behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long. I've been very busy with life. :( Not like I wanted to be. So exhausted in the past few days!  
> Also went to see Thor Ragnarök yesterday and holy dsjklfdsklgjl it was so awesome! <3


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „I was kind of trying to calm myself.”

A scream woke me up. It startled me because it was too loud. Then I realised I was screaming. I kicked the duvet off and I went silent as I sat up and tried to stop panting. My lungs hurt awfully, I've had a dull headache and I was sweating. I pulled myself to the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands to wipe away the tears and the sweat.

A knock.

"Elisabeth?"

"Go away!" I sobbed.

I didn't need help. I was fine! No... I wasn't... but I couldn't let him see me like this. I shouldn't!

"Please, let me in", he said quietly and I sobbed more.

"No!" I cried.

"Why?"

He knew why. He had to. I rubbed my face then made my bun on the top of my head again. I tapped my cheeks with a little force. _Come on, come on body, calm down._

"You're pathetic", my hallucination stood right before me with a smirk on his face. I sobbed louder. "You're so weak."

"Stop it..."

"You can't even quit this life without throwing a damned ridiculous fit."

"Shut up..."

"What's keeping you back, anyway? You're a burden."

"Elisabeth, please, open the door", Mycroft's gentle voice came from outside.

"See? You won't even let him rest. You're so useless."

" **SHUT UP!** " I screamed at my hallucination. " **SHUT UP!** **_LEAVE ME ALONE!_** "

When I opened my eyes again, he was gone. The real Mycroft went silent and I realised he probably thought I told him to shut up and leave me alone. I staggered to my feet, ran for the door and unlocked it. He was walking back to his room — it seemed he truly believed I was speaking to him.

"I'm s—...", I choked on my tears. Mycroft stopped and turned to face me. "Sorry... _please..._ please, _don't go..."_

I couldn't see his face properly from my tears in the faint light, but I saw he froze when he looked at me. I nervously chewed my lips bloody and my arms were trembling, but I didn't realise.

"I'm... sorry", I repeated when he remained silent.

"It didn't stop, did it?" He asked quietly and I froze. "Your hallucination. It's still with you, isn't it?"

"Yes", I cried and I was afraid he'd hate me for it. I was afraid he'd tell me the same things the hallucination did. I was afraid he'd call me weak and pathetic, for real. "Please, don't hate me..."

"Oh Elisabeth..." His voice seemed deeper as he slowly walked over to me and wrapped me in his arms. I melted into his hold and sobbed even harder. "You know I don't hate you. I don't want you to be hurt by anything."

"I want it... to go away", I managed to stutter through my sobs, "I don't... want to... be like this..."

"I know, and I'll help you with it as much as I can. You don't have to do this alone."

I realised I was holding onto him a bit too tight, but he didn't seem to mind as he hugged me back and ran his fingers in my hair over and over.

"But... but you can't since... you'll leave... tomorrow..."

"I won't."

A pause.

_"What?"_

"I won't go to work tomorrow." I wanted to pull away. He didn't let me, continued talking instead. "It's clear this was way too early for both of us. I spent the majority of my time looking at my phone to see if you messaged me. And you've suffered because of it. So, no. I'll stay."

I was so shocked I stopped crying. I rested my chin on his shoulder and my arms loosened a bit.

"Can I..." I mumbled and I went red, "could I..."

"Of course you can", Mycroft pulled away and smiled at me. I looked down at my feet. He got a hold of my hand and pulled it gently, so I followed him. "You don't have to prove me anything, do you know that?"

I sighed and shook my head. He let my hand go when we reached his bed. I climbed under his duvet and he did the same on the other side of the bed, then he turned off the light. I crawled to him in the dark and he wrapped me in a tight hug when I reached him.

"It's alright to seek help when you need it", he murmured softly.

"I..." I buried my face in his neck. "I don't want you to think I can't handle myself..."

"Elisabeth, you've been **tortured** for **_months_**. Do you think nobody would suffer any damage from that?"

My lips quivered.

"I don't want to be weak... and pathetic..."

"Who told you were weak?" Mycroft grumbled. "Anyone saying this has no idea what you've been through. You just need time and some help, trust me."

“But… I don’t—”

“Trust me.”

I stayed silent for a few moments. As I listened to his breathing, I let out a quiet whine.

“I’m sorry I woke you up”, I offered.

“You didn’t.”

I nuzzled to his neck.

“What? You couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Why?”

I heard and felt he swallowed. He remained still and silent for a few moments.

“I was trying to figure out what went wrong between today morning and evening.”

At his reply, it was my turn to stay silent. During the day, he could’ve felt like everything was fine, I just had a little trouble with my anxiety because I messaged him if he was safe a few times. He probably thought when he came home that I was rather fine. And then – how I treated him during the dinner and after. I was horrible, I realised. Guilt clenched my stomach.

“I’m sorry”, I offered.

“Don’t be. Forget it.”

I sighed and smiled to myself. I loved his scent and how close he was to me. I hummed and he hummed back, as if asking what was I thinking about. I wrapped my arm around his torso.

"Pine?" I asked.

"Cypress."

"Cypress..."

The scent of his shower gel. I smiled more and I took a deep breath before I let it out.

"Raspberry?" He mumbled and started to play with my hair at the back of my head.

"Strawberry", I giggled.

My shampoo had strawberry scent. It seemed he noticed something he liked, too.

"And almond", Mycroft hummed, "I'm certain there's some almond."

"And honey", I added, thinking of my other bottle.

"I can't smell the honey."

"I can't either but that was on the bottle."

"Well that's cheating", he teased. "I've been trying to identify scents for the second time here."

A soft giggle again in the dark. A quiet, deep chuckle from him.

"You're trying to figure out the smells around you when you can't sleep?"

"I'm analising everything. It's in my nature."

"Can't you switch it off?"

"Why would I want to?"

"I don't know, to rest a little?"

"This is rest in itself."

"I can’t believe this."

"What?"

"Do you even sleep at all?"

"You know I do."

I giggled again.

"Not so sure sometimes." I stirred a little and he rubbed my back.

"It's rare I can rest a lot these days", he said quietly.

"Why?"

"Even though I know it's a little illogical, I'm worrying."

"About what?"

"You."

"You don't have to worry about me", I felt I blushed.

"But I do."

"Why?"

"Because you're important."

Blushed a moment ago? Now **all the heat** rushed in my face. He rubbed my back gently.

"I worry about you, too", I mumbled.

"You're aware I have guards, aren't you?"

"Yes, and what did guards do that one time when you were attacked? They were **_late_**."

"I told you back then I had a weapon with me." His voice was amused but I just groaned. "Hmm?"

"An umbrella is not a weapon." Mycroft chuckled quietly and I got irritated by it. " ** _No_** _, it's not._ Fine, you can poke out someone's eye, but that's all it does."

"You're wrong." He mused and I pulled away. He tried to keep me there but I was persistent. "Ah, come on, Elisabeth, don't get angry..."

"I'm not angry, I just can't believe you think you could protect yourself with an umbrella, you should be cleverer than this", I argued and he sighed. I felt him sit up. Then he turned up the light on his nightstand. The way he smiled back at me made me even more irritated. "What are you smiling about? It's not funny..."

"Wait here", he said, then got up and walked out to the corridor. He brought his umbrella back just when I sat up too. The look I gave him made him chuckle again. I brought myself to the edge of the bed. "I bring this umbrella with me everywhere for a reason."

He grabbed the handle and the body of the umbrella and yanked them apart. My eyebrows ran up on my forehead when it revealed it wasn’t an umbrella at all – because underneath its body, there was a **_sword!_**

“ _Wow_ ”, the look I gave Mycroft was rather sarcastic. “So you’ll really stab people with it. Wow. **_Very_** useful _if your opponent has a **gun**._ ”

Mycroft laughed again. Then he walked out to the bathroom, brought back a towel, grabbed the blade with it and yanked that as well. When he sat down next to me on the edge of the bed, he showed me the barrel of a **gun.**

“Are you kidding me?” I asked and he laughed again.

“No.” He put the blade back to its place, then the body of the umbrella and offered it to me. I took it, examined it, and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “There’s more to it than what meets the eye”, he smiled at me and I sighed.

“Familiar”, I mumbled and I gave it back to him.

“What is?” He cocked a brow.

“It’s like you, then.” At his questioning glance, I smiled and looked away, pretending I was smoothing out the sheet under me as I climbed back to my place. “There’s more to you too than what meets the eye.”

He didn’t reply, but I felt he was still watching me. The next moment I looked up in his eyes his gaze was so intense it brought back all the heat in my face again.

“I’m nothing special”, he said, doubting, as I pulled the duvet up to my cheek to hide myself.

“Keep telling yourself that”, I mumbled.

With a sigh, he settled the umbrella next to the nightstand, then switched off the light and climbed back in the bed next to me. I snuggled up to him again and smiled.

“Now sleep.” He said. “Or I might get angry.”

“Angry? Hah. I’d like to see that.” As his hand was on my side, his fingers tickled me lightly and I immediately jerked away with a laugh. “Meanie!”

“There’s more where this came from”, he warned and I laughed again because I heard he was smiling. “So sleep.”

“You, too.”

And in the next few days I stopped trying to sleep in “my” room, alone. I woke up every morning with me lying on top of him and he didn’t seem to care. I liked our lazy mornings very much, even if I knew he probably wanted to get up and do stuff, he stayed and played with my hair as I nuzzled to him. Every morning, we spent at least an hour just lying there, saying nothing. I didn’t want to stop listening to his heartbeat and breathing. It was so soothing. His presence made me calm and collected and nightmares rarely came to surface. My hallucination stayed away as well. He made sure a specialist would come and see me and I started to feel much better with time.

There were a few days though when he needed to leave for a few hours, but he made sure he’d take care of those tasks early in the morning just after breakfast. Sometimes I spent some time in “my” room with Ninne and my laptop, sometimes in his library, reading books… and one day I found myself crawling back between the sheets and sniffing at his pillow. Well. Maybe I wasn’t completely better…

"So, I was wondering..."

I looked up from the book I was reading. Mycroft's eyes found mine as he stopped typing something on his laptop. Did he seem nervous? Or I was just seeing things?

"Yes?" I asked as I closed the book and lowered it in my lap.

"I have to attend a party this Friday and I was wondering..."

He looked back at his monitor. I waited. This was so strange. Why did he hesitate so much?

"I'll be fine for a night if that's what you're worrying about", I said when he stayed silent for a longer time, thinking I’d probably sniff his pillow until I fell asleep… but kept that information to myself.

"No", he quickly straightened his back, "I wanted to ask if you... wanted to..."

I frowned. Then blinked, confused.

"If I wanted to go there with you?" He looked up at me and I smiled. That was what he was so nervous about? Asking if I wanted to go with him to a party? Why? "If you want me to go, then I will."

"Good", he seemed so relieved. "It'd be best if we arrived seperately, though."

"Alright", I nodded as I got my book up and opened it.

"Really?"

I looked at him again.

"Of course."

"Okay. Thank you."

Friday came fast. I was slightly excited as I haven’t been outside for who knew how long. Basically, there were no reason to leave his ~~manor~~ house. There was food, gym, library and him. But probably I wanted to stay just for him. I still wondered why did he feel so nervous about asking me; before he took me to Hill’s party, he simply said I’d go with him and that was it. I decided I’d put on the same dress I had on back then. That evening I realised I was slightly nervous; I’d arrive seperately, half an hour before him, and I’d know no one but him. But I knew he had a reputation to keep up, people couldn’t really start thinking about us like that and I respected his wishes. Even if the Old Hag saw me here, she at least wasn’t as bad to spread rumours about us, for which I could be only grateful. If it was important to him what people thought, then it was important to me too.

So I got ready and walked down the stairs to the living room completely dressed up, my hair up in a nice bun – and braided locks around its base with minimal makeup. Just a little foundation so I wouldn’t be so pale, light grey shade, eyeliner, peach lipstick. Nothing very special. However, I noticed, when Mycroft looked up at me, he looked surprised. It seemed what they said was true. Less was more.

„You’re beautiful”, he said and it felt like to me he didn’t actually want to say it but it slipped out anyway.

„Thank you”, I smiled at him as he looked away and cleared his throat, visibly confused by his own reaction. The little devil made me smile wider at a thought. „You look amazing, too.”

At this, he looked at me again, his eyes slightly narrowed. I realised he was trying to find out if I was lying, but I really wasn’t. He was wearing a tuxedo and damn it, he still looked amazing when he was wearing it. I noticed his cheeks were painted slightly pink when he realised I wasn’t kidding.

„I uh… thank you”, he said and checked his watch just to do something. I waited, still smiling, feeling much lighter than usual. I slipped my small handbag’s strap on my right shoulder. „The car should arrive soon.” He said as he slipped his watch back in his pocket. „Don’t worry, I have my best men in there to guard you.”

„I’m not worrying”, I smiled at him. „I know you’re making sure I stay safe.”

Once again, my honesty seemed to throw him off. I wondered why. I thought our relationship was much more open than before. Maybe he needed more time? Perhaps. I should keep this in mind…

„As a matter of fact”, he stepped closer to me and took my hands in his, „I was kind of trying to calm myself.”

„You shouldn’t worry for me all the time”, I said softly as I smiled at him, but he kept looking at my fingers. „We’ll be fine.”

„I know this with my head…”

He didn’t finish, but his words made me feel like he wanted to say something like this: _but my **heart** _**feels** _differently._

„ _Mycroft_ ”, I whispered and he looked up at me. I nervously swallowed and leaned a little closer to him. The doorbell suddenly rung. I moved backwards to my original place. He blinked and looked down again. „I guess my ride is here.”

„Yes, you should go.” He cleared his throat once more. His nervousness made me smile all over again. „Let’s not keep them waiting. I’ll catch up as soon as possible.”

„See you later”, I nodded as I let his hands go, then got my coat on and walked out in the cold evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys for disappearing, so many things happened lately. I'll not abandon my fics, worry not! <3  
> Also, how did you like this? :)


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My tough heroine."

The car ride was quick and slightly painful. Two big brutes sat up front and I was calm, even if Mycroft wasn't around, I knew he'd come after me. We reached the place — vast and luxurious — and I just wondered now who was hosting the party. I made my way inside the building, examining the golden stairs and marble statues along with the red carpet and was led to a huge ballroom. There, I soon found myself near the snack table. I didn't realise I was hungry. So as I tried something out and watched the many people — lot of men and women —, I felt someone stopped next to me.

"Good evening", he said and I looked at him with a smile.

His hair was ginger and neatly trimmed and smoothed down on his head, his ginger sideburns looked amazing in contrast with his pale face, his eyes curious and as blue as the sky. But I didn't find him interesting at all. I compared him to Mycroft and kept thinking how different he was...

"Good evening", I nodded at him and got myself a glass of wine.

"Is it your first time?" He asked. "I'm Josh, by the way. Josh Smith. I work for one of London's biggest magazine. Maybe you've heard of me?"

"Can't say I've had", I replied calmly and wished Mycroft would arrive as soon as possible. "I'm Elisabeth."

"Elisabeth. Beautiful name." Josh smiled and came closer. I slightly went stiff. He was dangerously close to my personal space. "I'm actually a photographer and if I might say, you look gorgeous in this outfit..."

"Thank you", I said, blushing, and drank a little to do something with my hand.

"Do you have a partner for tonight? Because if not, I could..."

"Oh no… thank you, but no. I’m sorry."

I tried not to sound rude, but I also wanted him to leave me alone. He opened his mouth to reply when a voice from behind me interrupted us.

"Ah, Elisabeth, I was wondering where were you."

I smiled instinctively and turned to look at Mycroft.

"You're _late_ ", I cocked a brow and he smiled at me.

"Apologies. Traffic."

"Do you know each other?" Josh asked.

"Yes", Mycroft replied and I heard the edge in his voice. "She's my assistant."

Josh opened his mouth to say something when another voice joined the conversation.

"Pfft, more like his whore."

My eyes slightly widened and I spotted Lady Smallwood right behind Mycroft. Mycroft's face turned unreadable. I felt like my stomach did a backflip.

"No, I'm not", my voice sounded strong and honest. Because it was true! "Would you please stop spreading ill gossip about me?"

" _Ill gossip?_ "

Old Hag laughed hysterically, drawing a lot of attention to us. I saw on Mycroft's face he didn't like this at all. He turned and said something to her I didn't understand and she stared at him. Then, she laughed again, rather weak and shaky this time. Mycroft walked past her – probably was on his way to eleminate the Old Hag from the party with some help – and she stared at me in utter disgust.

" ** _You..._** you've ruined everything", she spat at me and I steeled myself.

"I didn't do anything."

"We were completely fine until you appeared!" She nearly shouted again and I realised in this moment she was very, very drunk. Her cheeks were red, and her hands were shaking. "I could've been the wealthiest and most powerful woman next to..."

" _Wealthiest?!_ " I hissed at her and I felt so angry I barely could keep myself from jumping at her throat. "Is it what you're after? His money?!"

She laughed even louder.

"What else do you think?"

I couldn't believe my ears, but a part of me just nodded to her words. _Of course._ Most of the people around him probably wanted this. His money and power. As if there was nothing else he could give a person. Maybe this was why it took him so much time to even accept what he probably felt? This was one of the reasons he didn't trust people?

"He's much more than that..."

"What else?" She spat back at me. "He's just a man like anyone else."

I laughed. Dryly, emotionlessly.

_"Get out of my sight."_

I turned my back on her instead. I saw Josh was still watching the scene. I didn't care. I got myself another drink. I felt like I needed it desperately. I felt she came closer to me and she grabbed my shoulder. I sneered and turned to look back at her just when her hand slapped my face. The blood pounded in my ears. I was positive if I've had ten seconds, I would’ve beat her with my fists. But that was the moment Mycroft appeared again with two other men who looked like security guards.

"Just in time", I hissed and I watched as she was taken — she still put up a fight, though and screamed _"whore!!"_ before she was dragged out. I sighed and put my hand on my face. The Hag had quite the stingy slap. Mycroft turned back to me and reached for my wrist to remove it, but I moved out of the way. "No", I growled.

"Let me see", he said softly and I sighed because his request sounded too kind to refuse. I lowered my hand. He still looked so professional while I was sure my head was as red as the carpet. The anger didn’t want to subside. "I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault", I shrugged, thinking the burning feeling on my cheek was unbearable.

"Yes it is", he said quietly and he pulled me closer. Now my other cheek became red, too. "I should've stayed with you."

"I'm strong, no slap is hard enough to make me cry", I tried to reassure him quietly and he smiled.

"I know", he whispered back to me. "My tough heroine."

I smiled at this and blushed even further, so I tried to get myself busy with a glass of champagne. I knew I’d need to find some non-alcoholic beverage. It’s been a while I last had alcohol.

For the upcoming twenty minutes people walked over to Mycroft and talked with him a little. I listened, curious, but there wasn’t many very interesting things they talked about. I wasn’t bored, though. As I tried various snacks, I noticed a few faces I’ve only seen in papers and I wondered what was I doing here.

I let my thoughts wonder. He brought me along so I’d get a glimpse of his life or he brought me so he wouldn’t need to leave me at home? Maybe the latter. Probably the latter. I checked again and again if my remaining bruises were covered with the special make up I've had for cases like this. Originally, it was made to cover up tattooes, but I figured I couldn’t come to a party with bruises like that, so I applied whatever I could to appear near perfect. And unharmed.

Standing in one place took a toll on me. I started to feel dizzy – but I could blame that on the champagne as well. My phone buzzed in my small handbag, I took it out and saw that I had a new message. I took a step back and my waist touched the snack table. Mycroft wasn’t paying attention this once, he was talking to someone important. But when he turned to look at me, his voice seemed alarmed.

„Elisabeth, are you alright?”

I swallowed and couldn’t tear my eyes away from my phone’s screen. I felt Mycroft moved next to me. The message came from Sherrinford’s old number, to my personal phone. It was a picture. Of me. Standing in front of the snack table near Mycroft. I started to hyperventilate when I felt Mycroft’s hand on my arm. He pulled me away from the crowd to a rather deserted corridor.

„Breathe”, he told me quietly as he gently took my phone from me. He half turned and slipped the phone to someone’s hand who rushed away with it, but I only saw that from the corner of my eye. „There’s no way he could be here. The entire country is looking for him. Elisabeth, talk to me.” I opened my mouth slightly but no words came. My voice was stuck. I was stuck. Mycroft took my hands, firmly. That was when I noticed my fingers were shaking. „Elisabeth, listen to me. He can’t be here. I _swear_ to you, **on my life** , he **can’t** get to you. He’s trying to upset you. But you’re cleverer than that. Isn’t that right?” I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. „That’s it, just breathe. You can control it.”

„Right”, I mumbled and I half smiled as I looked up at him. I cleared my throat and stopped shaking. That was all Sherrinford had now. Threats. Empty threats. I knew what Mycroft said was true. I wanted to believe it was true. I nodded a few times to myself. _I can do it. I’m his tough heroine, after all, he said himself._ „I’m alright.”

I looked up at his face and he didn’t anticipate that. I saw much more on his face than he wanted me to see. It wasn’t matter he erased his feelings from his expression as fast as he could, I still saw he was upset more than his voice showed. Once again, he was stronger than me. Because of me. When in fact, if Sherrinford was nearby, he was in just as much danger as I was. My throat tightened when I thought what Sherrinford would do to him if he caught the both of us. I moved and wrapped him in a hug. I buried my face in his neck.

„You’ll be fine”, I said quietly when he hugged me back.

He chuckled quietly. He sounded so light. I shouldn’t forget that he was a notorius liar to protect himself – but I seemed to forget this fact over and over again.

„Of course I will be. I’m not worried for myself.”

„Yes, you are.”

„No.”

„Mycroft, you’re not dumb, you know just as well as I do if he was truly around us it wouldn’t be just me who’d be in danger.”

He went silent for a few moments as he processed what I was saying.

„Don’t be ridiculous.”

I closed my eyes.

„Don’t try to lie to me”, I whispered to him, „because I see when you’re doing it.”

„And why is it bad if I lie?” He whispered back and gently stroked my back. „I do it to keep you calm.”

„Don’t you think honesty is the base of relationships?”

„Honesty?” He nearly snorted. „If I was honest with just half the people I’m working with, I’d be left alone.”

I giggled. Then I giggled more.

„Just be honest with me. Don’t try to pretend everything is fine when it’s not.”

„I have to.”

„Why?”

„An old habit.”

"Break it, then."

"Sir."

We let each other go so fast I nearly fell against the wall. A man stood nearby and hid the smile from his face. I blushed. Mycroft, of course, looked professional as always.

"Any news?"

"We caught the one who made the picture, sir."

Ah, then Sherrinford had a man near me who sent the picture of me to him... and he could send it to me. I didn't feel much better. He had men near me who could kidnap me if they were ordered. This wasn't a good thought.

"Excellent. More information?"

"Nothing. He's not talking."

"Make sure he does."

"Understood."

I watched the man in the black suit walk away, then Mycroft turned to look at me.

"Honesty", he mumbled.

"I'd appreciate it", I nodded.

"Right now?"

"Always."

I saw his left eye slightly twitched.

"Not tonight." He reached for my hand and I let him. "But I'll reconsider."

"How _generous_ of you, sir."

"Isn't it", he flashed a half smirk as he took my arm and led me back to the party. "Could I have this dance?"

I nearly giggled again. I wondered what would he do if I said no. But of course, that wouldn't happen, like ever.

"Of course, sir", I teased lightly.

I hoped Sherrinford had more men around us. I wanted him to see how happy I was with Mycroft.

We danced until he noticed I was way too tired for such things. The champagne and the dance made me very tired. I got my personal phone back which I put in my bag, then around ten, we left.

This time, together.

In the car, I didn't really care about his guards up front and put my head on his shoulder. I was glad he didn’t say anything to it, just continued to type a text on his phone. I didn’t check what he was writing, just enjoyed his presence and closed my eyes. Then, to my own surprise, I fell asleep like that. I woke up only when he was bringing me up the stairs in his home. I snuggled to his chest.

"I'm sorry", I mumbled.

"It's alright", he said quietly and opened his room's door with his elbow and brought me inside. "I knew you'd get tired fast."

I smiled at his comment when he placed me on his bed. I sat up.

"Is this why you brought me? So you could leave early?"

"Of course not", he cocked a brow but his half smile gave away he lied again.

When he went to his bathroom to change, I changed after I went to my room. I decided I’d have the make up from my body removed tomorrow morning. I washed my teeth and combed through my hair, then walked back to his room without saying a word. But still, he was waiting for me with the lamp on. When I climbed under the duvet he turned off the light and wrapped me in his arms.

„Thank you for bringing me to the party”, I said with a smile.

„You’re welcome”, he said quietly.

Soon after, I fell asleep again. But during that night, I woke up once more. It wasn’t because of me, though. It was because of what Mycroft was doing. He was shivering and mumbling incomprehensible words while he was showing his back to me.

„Mycroft”, I said quietly, but it didn’t seem he heard me. I wrapped my arm around him and buried my face in his back. „Mycroft, it’s alright. We’re safe.”

„No… no…”

„It’s alright, I promise. Everything is fine.”

„Don’t…”

„Nobody’s forcing you to do anything. You’re safe.”

That was the moment I realised how stiff his muscles were. I remembered that one time when we were in Moscow and he had a nightmare. He was just as stiff back then like right now.

„Don’t… don’t hurt her”, he whimpered and I felt shattered.

„Mycroft, nobody hurts me. I’m here with you.”

„ _Please…_ ”

I rubbed his back with slightly more force, then reached up to the back of his head and pulled at his hair gently just like he used to do when I needed it. He slowly eased up, stopped shivering and sighed. Then he moved. I let him go and saw in the shadows he sat up. And buried his face in his hands.

„Mycroft?” I mumbled and I sat up too. „It’s alright…”

„No it’s not”, he sighed, shakily.

His reaction startled me. I leaned against his back and hugged him like that. I said nothing, just let him think everything through, knowing he’d realise sooner or later that indeed, things were fine. We were fine.

After a few minutes he took my hands and brought my knuckles to his lips. Warmness filled up my gut and I blushed as I lied still, against his back.

„We need to catch him”, he whispered against my skin, „as soon as possible.”

„Agreed”, I whispered back.

„I won’t let him hurt you again.”

„I know, Mycroft. I know. It’s going to be fine.”

How it would be fine, I had no idea. But to know how everything upset him made me angry and helpless. He might’ve had no bruises and scars but he was suffering just as much as I did. And I could only hope I was just as much of a reassurance to him as he was to me. I got my strength from him, and now I could give some of it back to him.

„I promise”, he said again and placed a kiss on my skin.

I was sure my face radiated heat and he could feel it on his back. I smiled and pulled him in, tight.

„Okay, my hero”, I said playfully and he sighed.

„I shouldn’t have these… nightmares. They’re completely illogical.”

„Well, after trauma it happens to humans and believe it or not, you’re a human, too.”

Mycroft laughed — without much emotion.

„Some people try to make me believe I’m not.”

„Well they’re stupid then.”

„Are they?”

„Of course.” I took a deep breath. I loved his scent and how close he was to me. „You’re more human than they ever could be.”

He sighed deeply, then let my hands go. I pulled away and he lied back down, then pulled me back to himself. I smiled and snuggled to his side, resting my head on his chest.

„We should sleep.”

„Agreed, sir.”

He chuckled quietly and ran his fingers up and down on my back, slow. Oh, the goosebumps. This felt good.

„I like it when you’re calling me like that.”

„Who would’ve thought?”

At my playful tease, he chuckled again.

„What if I started to call you, let’s say… hmm… my lady?”

Oh boy. _My lady._ That sounded so… intimate…

„I’d probably blush even more often.”

He laughed quietly. And when he next talked, he sounded _evil_.

"Then I shall put it to use, my lady."

I decided — despite my burning face and butterfly-filled stomach — I'd play along.

"As thou wish, my lord."

When his loud, this time happy laughter filled the room, I couldn't help but to laugh with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last!  
> I've had fun with this chapter. A rollercoaster, again, but it's rather expected, isn't it?  
> Hopefully I'll have time to write more. <3


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "At all costs."
> 
> Happy birthday, Bobthebrain! :D This is my gift to you. :D (Sorry for the looks of this chapter. I updated from phone.)

The day finally came when he let me go back to work.  
Of course, he had his own strict rules applied and I had to agree to them. But honestly, these rules were very comfortable rules for me. Like, we had to go together to work with the same car. I wanted to ask him to let me go with him every morning anyway. Then there was that I wasn’t allowed to leave my place during lunch break. So I had to order lunch for myself (which totally won’t happen, because I started to cook again and always made sure we had enough to take some to work the next day). And of course, we’ve had new security around whose men made sure I wouldn’t go missing.  
The first morning I felt ridiculously happy. I’ve enjoyed those lazy days with Mycroft, of course. But I’ve been missing being really useful. When I started to get back my strength and could resume cooking, it got better, but not much. Now that I was taking on my coat for a real work day, I felt he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.  
„What?” I asked playfully and he cocked a brow.  
„Just… the skirt.”  
„What about it?” I looked down on myself. My skirt was perfect. It ended above my knees. Well… it ended rather at the middle of my thighs. I looked back at Mycroft. He seemed so confused. „Hmm?”  
„No… nothing”, he shook his head and put on his coat.  
 ** _Oh God._ ** This perfect, black coat. Over his three piece. I loved it. I made sure I wouldn’t drool. Then I looked down on my skirt again. Just when he picked up his umbrella-sword-gun.  
„What’s up with my skirt?” I asked once more when he opened the door.  
„Nothing, Elisabeth. Forget it.”  
„I want to know what’s your problem with it.”  
„Why?”  
„I won’t wear it again if you don’t like it.”  
I saw he stopped mid-movement.  
„Why?”  
„Because I value your opinion.”  
„Actually, no, it looks good on you.”  
„Then what’s the matter?”  
Mycroft hesitated. Just for a moment.  
„It’s too short.”  
I started to blink and couldn’t stop. **_What the Hell?!_**  
„Too short?” I asked, half amused, half shocked.  
At my question, his eyebrows slightly twitched.  
„If I knew you’d meet only me the entire day, it wouldn’t bother me. I wouldn’t stare, for instance. Not like most people.”  
He walked out the door and I didn’t follow him. When he noticed that, he turned to look at me again. My face must’ve had something on it because he looked slightly… scared?  
„What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned, my voice slightly thinner.  
„I told you, forget it.”  
„No!”  
He deemed my skirt short. But just because I’d meet other people? Was this…? Oh no. His jealousy. I felt I blushed beneath my make up.  
„So my skirt doesn’t bother you, but it does bother you when other people are around me?”  
„Elisabeth, please…”  
„Seriously Mycroft, it’s just a skirt.”  
At this he seemed to lose his cool demeanor.  
„But men are men, and you know that!”  
I crossed my arms on my chest, pouting.  
„And? Do I look like I’d care about them?”  
„How would I know?!” Mycroft snapped. Finally, my expression softened. But he wasn’t really finished. „Even at the party, it didn’t take long for that _boy_ to notice and start flirting with you.”  
I nearly laughed. A smile cracked on my face nevertheless. First of all, he was ridiculous. How could he be still this jealous when I spend the entire night in his bed, with him? Alright. He never touched me that way and he never even kissed me ~~(not like I’d protest, honestly)~~. I walked out the door and closed it behind me.  
„Did you know I turned his offer down?” I asked then gently and he didn’t reply. I laughed to myself a little. „Oh, Mycroft. You still don’t see the obvious.”  
I walked past him and approached our car, then sat in without another word. Shortly after, he followed, but he stared at his phone’s screen instead. We stayed in silence during the entire trip. I was glad I could survive the ride without wincing and grimacing. Finally, I started to feel whole again.  
At the office, I was so glad to see most of my stuff was untouched. As I sat down and turned on my computer, I felt like a part of me came home. I smiled up at Mycroft when he showed up at his office’s door, but he didn’t smile back. He was watching me for a while as he seemed to be in deep thought before he retired to his office again.  
I’ve spent half the day sorting out e-mails. God, there was a **LOT**. Mycroft actually went through the trouble to find important stuff – I saw he opened a few – but it seemed one giant mess to me. So I spent a lot of time categorising those for him. Time flew by and I felt so useful.  
Then there was the lunch break. Mycroft came to my desk and cleared his throat. It’s been hours since we last talked and I was still buried in my work.  
„Elisabeth”, he said quietly. I stopped typing and looked up at him questioningly. „I was thinking… maybe you should go and have Cordon Bleu today.”  
I frowned.  
„I thought you brought food from…” I stopped for a moment. Then I slightly blushed. „Home.”  
At my finished sentence he looked way too innocent for a moment. Then, he cleared his throat again.  
„I forgot to put it away.”  
I blinked. Twice. Confused.  
„ _ **Wow.** Mycroft Holmes_ **forgot something.** ”  
He rolled his eyes.  
„I’ve had my mind on something else.”  
„What else? My skirt?”  
 _„Elisabeth!”_  
I could’ve laughed at the way he said my name, but I cocked a brow instead.  
„How could you forget our lunch?”  
Maybe it was the fact I made a comment about him forgetting it, or just the fact I said ’our lunch’, but from the way he fidgeted with his pocket watch’s chain made me realise he felt bad about it.  
„Just go and get yourself something to eat.”  
„I’ll bring you something, too.”  
„Unnecessary.” I tilted my head and opened my mouth to argue when he sighed. „Fine! Bring me the same. But just after you ate.”  
„So I’m not required to stay here all day?”  
„No. Go and eat. You have an hour.”  
I wondered why did he change his mind. When he turned away I shrugged to myself, then put my computer to sleep and grabbed my favourite bag to take it with me. I walked to the lift – the two security men sized me up with cocked up brows – then I got inside and pushed the button to go down.  
The familiar smells made me smile to myself. I got myself Cordon Bleu – just as I used to eat before. Then I searched for a place and sat down. Unfortunately, there were a few women behind me who undoubtedly spoke about Mycroft. They started with little jokes.  
"But have you actually seen him? He carries that umbrella around like it was a sword."  
I smiled to myself. They didn’t even suspect what I knew.  
"I know, right, so funny how he plays with it..."  
"Boys and their toys."  
Then it started to get worse.  
"He also visibly gained weight in the past few weeks. Not so skinny anymore."  
"I thought he'd get the lift crashed the other day."  
They laughed.  
"Just imagine he gets in it and it suddenly breaks and falls..."  
"Come on, he's not that fat..."  
"But he'd deserve it! He's an asshole."  
"Fatasshole."  
 _That's enough_ , I thought as I finished my food. I got up, put the plate and the tray back to its place and bought Mycroft lunch. After putting that away I bought a latte for myself and I got my notebook out of my bag as walked over to the girls with a charming smile.  
"Hi girls, I'm doing a research on names for Sherlock Holmes." I clicked my pen on and beamed a smile at them. "It's for a case."  
"Holy shit you know Sherlock?" The blonde one asked and I nodded with a shining smile.  
"Met him just yesterday. We had tea and talk. So, could you tell me your names? First and last. You do want to help him, right?"  
I winked at them and they magically ate it.  
"Charlotte Thenan. T-H-E-N-A-N."  
I wrote down her name.  
"Got it. And you?"  
"Sarah Peck. Like... peck."  
I laughed and nodded as I wrote, looking at the third girl.  
"Lola White."  
"Thank you, girls." I put my small notebook away in my pocket and I put my hands on the table. My smile morphed into a snarl. "How dare you mock Mycroft Holmes?!" My question shocked them. I didn't wait for their reply. " _How dare you_ speak about him like that? **_How dare you_ ** even think those thoughts? I'll make sure that you, ALL of you are going to be fired and **WON'T** find a well paying job **EVER** again." I pushed myself away from the table, smiled in their shocked faces and straightened my attire. "Good day, girls. Pack your stuff when your break ends."  
I picked up my latte and went back to Mycroft. I knocked on his door before I entered.  
"Yes?" He looked up, "what's happened?"  
I got my notebook out and showed him the names.  
"Fire them and make their lives miserable."  
He blinked at the names then looked up at me.  
"Why, what happened?"  
"Be kind and fire them or I'll go right back, hunt them down, and beat them up."  
He leaned back in his chair and entwined his fingers in his lap, his expression calm and curious. Almost... _entertained_.  
"What did they do which upset you so much?"  
I gritted my teeth. I couldn't tell him, not what they said, but I didn't want him to know why I asked him this for some reason. As if admitting I took their mocking to the heart was a silly thing. When he saw I wouldn’t reply, he sighed.  
"So. Just to clarify. Since you barely take anything to the heart so much if it's about you", he speculated out loud, "I'd say they insulted someone important to you. They don't know you, not personally, so it can't be your cat, and who'd insult a feline anyway. They have no idea you work for me. Had they have this knowledge, they probably would've kept their mouths shut and you wouldn't request something like this from me." He turned his chin up slightly. In this moment, he was definitely _amused_. "I don't care what they say about me, Elisabeth."  
"Well I do." I hissed. "Destroy them."  
"Do you think I haven't heard ill gossip about me lately or in my earlier life?" He questioned and it made me incredibly upset to think about how he was probably treated by the ordinary people.  
"That's it", I growled, "I'll beat them up."  
"Elisabeth, calm down."  
"No!"  
"Why?"  
"Because they're stupid and unfair!" I found myself angrier than a moment before. "They're so **_limited_** and **little** and they dare to talk about you like... like..."  
"Humans don't like those who're cleverer and more successful than them."  
"Well I don't give a damn about that!"  
"Elisabeth..."  
"Get rid of them or I will!"  
He stayed silent until I calmed my breathing to a normal pace. He tilted his head.  
"What they said – was it really this bad?" He questioned.  
"To me, yes."  
"Why?"  
"Just because!"  
"Elisabeth, _please_."  
"Nobody hurts you either with deeds or words and gets away with it. I won't allow it."  
He opened his mouth slightly to say something, but his voice lost half way. Then he closed his mouth and stood up to walk over to me. He held his hand out for my notebook and I handed it to him. He took it and I felt like his fingers unnecessarily stroked mine. As he looked at the names, he sighed.  
"Alright", he said then.  
"Alright?" I asked back.  
He looked up at me from the corner of his eyes.  
"I can't believe I'm doing this, but... well. If they upset you this much I'll have them... removed."  
At my beaming smile he looked down at the names again, as if he couldn't held my gaze. I leaned closer to him and kissed his left cheek.  
"Thank you", I gratefully whispered to him and I could see his pale cheeks got a little colour while he made very sure to avoid my gaze.  
I smiled to myself and left his lunch on his desk, then I walked back to my desk and continued working, picking up the papers I was looking at before my break.  
Half an hour later Charlotte Thenan showed up at my desk. She seemed very upset and nervous. I knew why. And I had to smile. He kept his word.  
"Who do you think you are?! Do you know who you're dealing with?!"  
At her questions I raised my eyebrows.  
"Charlotte Thenan. Freshly sacked, I presume."  
"You fucking—"  
"Now, now, Charlotte", I warned her playfully, "you don't want harrassment written in your papers, do you?"  
"You whore!"  
"I've been hearing this word too many times lately", I leaned back in my seat. "I definitely have a nickname, here."  
"I'll make sure you lose your job too!" She threatened.  
I watched her bloodshot eyes — she's been obviously crying earlier — and decided that no, her threats won't get to me. Especially not in my current position. With me practically in my boss's bed. Oh how bad it sounded, but I **_loved it._**  
"That'll be hard to accomplish", I smirked up at her. "But you're welcome to try."  
She left, hissing insults as she walked towards the lift. I resumed my work and stopped thinking about the incident.  
I was quiet in the car at the end of the day. I felt Mycroft kept looking at me as I watched the city and how it came to life.  
"How was your day?" Mycroft asked.  
I looked at him, surprised. He really looked interested in my reply.  
"It was alright."  
"I saw one of the three came to you."  
"Yes", I cocked a brow. "You've been watching me through the security camera?"  
I saw he fidgeted with his umbrella's handle. As if I just caught him in the middle of a mischievous act, one which he wanted to keep from me.  
 _"Yes."_  
"You don't have to watch me all the time, you know."  
"When I think of you and your safety, logic is the last thing I have on my mind."  
"What do you have on your mind, then?"  
Mycroft took a moment to reconsider.  
"I want to keep you safe. Always. At all costs."  
I felt I blushed. Then I smiled, almost shyly.  
"But you shouldn't focus on so many things, you'll get stressed."  
"At all costs", he said again.  
I didn't reply. Just rested my head on his shoulder.  
After we arrived home, I had a shower in my room's bathroom, then went down to the kitchen to cook some food. Mycroft sat in the living room with his laptop. He looked up when he heard me — I felt so underdressed in my white shirt, black trousers and socks compared to him. He still was in his blue three piece.  
"Hmm?" I asked him when he looked like he was thinking about something.  
"Aren't you tired?"  
"Not yet", I smiled, "time to cook dinner, don't you think?"  
"Maybe", he shrugged, then closed his laptop and glanced back at me. "Do you need help?"  
Suddenly, the song which he played to me when I went on that damned mission crept in my head. And how he closed his laptop... it already gave away that he wanted to spend time with me. I nodded.  
"Of course! But don't cut yourself again."  
"Haha, very funny."  
I watched him get up and I really started to get emotional there for a moment. He actually wanted to be with me. He blushed when I kissed his cheek. When he noticed I wouldn't go to his kitchen when he walked over to me, he cocked a brow.  
"What is it?"  
I couldn't reply. Not with words. So instead, I hugged him. I buried my face in his chest and held him tight. I heard him sigh — sounding content, calm and pleased —, and he hugged me back.  
"This is good", I mumbled in his chest.  
"Is it?" He teased playfully.  
"Yes." I stayed silent for a few moments. "I didn't get my daily dose of cuddles."  
His voice gently vibrated in his chest under my ear. He chuckled.  
"Maybe I can help with that."  
"You better. It's needed for my so-called recovery."  
He ran his hand down from the top of my head, down on my hair and back. His hand stopped in the middle of my back and he rubbed me. I felt goosebumps all over me and I shivered in his hold. Then I brought my hands up, right across his back and ran my fingers in his hair at the back of his head. It was his turn to shiver under my touch.  
"Is it good?" I asked and he hummed.  
"Take a guess", he whispered back.  
Shortly after I pulled away and we prepared dinner for ourselves. I used up yesterday's chicken, at least. After we ate I yawned.  
"Bed", Mycroft ordered and I didn't complain.  
"I have an idea."  
"What sort of an idea?"  
I bit on my lower lip. I definitely peaked his interest with that.  
"Would you pick a book of your choice and read to me a little?" I suggested and he looked surprised. "If you want to, of course."  
"Sure, why not."  
Ten minutes later I was in his bed, snuggled up to him as I used to do and he opened the book he chose. It wasn't even 6 and I thought even if we stayed awake, I'd have a good time.  
"Why, though?"  
At his question I smiled. He hugged me to himself with his left arm and I rested my head on his chest as he held the book with his right. I could see the first page.  
"I like to hear your voice", I admitted.  
Mycroft traced his fingers up and down on my upper arm. I snuggled to him more.  
"Well. I didn't expect this answer", he said.  
"It's true", I blushed, "read, please!"  
"It's been long since I read out loud anything." He cleared his throat and I could hear he was smiling. "Alright. So..." Mycroft continued to stroke my arm as he started to read out. " _It was five o'clock on a winter's morning in Syria. Alongside the platform at Aleppo stood the train grandly designated in railway guides as the Taurus Express. It consisted of a kitchen and dining-car, a sleeping-car and two local coaches..._ "  
He sounded like he was hesitating at first, but after a few pages he started to enjoy it. I felt completely calm and happy; his chest vibrated under my head and his voice soothed me. Also, the story was interesting, too.  
After a while I closed my eyes and relaxed, now completely, as he held me. He asked me a few times if I was still awake and I only replied with quiet humming. Then, I wasn't sure how much time later, I didn't notice if I fell asleep or not, but I probably did, as he started to move under me. I felt he placed the book down on his nightstand and turned off the light, then he stroked my cheek with his right hand and placed a kiss on the top of my head.  
I nearly melted as I drifted off to sleep again.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bored, I imagine."

I have to admit, it was all too good to be true.

In the last few weeks we settled into a nice, calm routine which was fine for us both. He read through the first book he picked, and I had him choose another. He never touched me in a sexual way, never kissed me, he didn’t make any moves towards me _that_ way at all. And I was very fine with that. One Saturday Sherlock asked me to stay at their apartment while they were out; I had to spend a little time with John’s daughter. I was very nervous about it first, but it turned out she was the most beautiful and cute angel on Earth.

I arrived back at Mycroft’s house when he was still very upset because of the set up scene Sherlock and John made for him. I didn’t even know they needed me for that. He didn’t say what happened, and I didn’t push it, just made sure to take care of his thumb he cut. Then we carried on with our night as usual.

The next morning, he left to go and talk to Sherlock and I stayed ’home’ alone.

I was about to walk back to his room from the kitchen where I had a sandwich when a message came from him.

**Behind the painting above the bed. The day we've met.**

I stared at the message. What? It was Sunday, and in my opinion, still morning. I yawned, thought I'd go back to bed anyway, so I walked in his bedroom and climbed up on the bed, took down the painting and realised there was a safe. I frowned. The day we've met? I typed in the date in the digital pin pad — it feels like it's been ages —, and when the door opened with a click, I felt like my heart sunk down into the pit of my gut.

There was only one item. A Glock 18c, fully automatic 9 mm handgun.

He was in danger. Then I must've been in danger, too. And I'll have to protect myself alone. I must get out of here. If I remain here, I'll be certainly found. Maybe I could contact DI Lestrade... yes, that would be best. Scotland Yard... they could help me...

After I checked how many bullets I've had — six —, I held the gun in my right hand as I climbed off the bed and ran for the door. The alarm screamed through the house, but only for a single moment. The sound startled me. As quietly as I could, I opened the door and sneaked out to the short corridor. I was in socks, so I could be as silent as a cat.

Cat. **CAT!** **Oh no! _NINNIE!_**

Shit! I turned to my own door, got the key out of my pocket, pushed it in the keyhole and broke the key. I needed to draw the — burglar? Kidnapper? Murderer? — invader's attention to myself, so whoever they were, wouldn't pay any attention to the closed door. Bravery. Be brave. Wasn't bravery close to stupidity in Mycroft's opinion?

"Come out, come out, Elisabeth", a voice cooed from downstairs and I froze completely.

No! Oh no! Not him! Not Sherrinford, not again! My hands shook and I wanted to desperately get out of the house. Being locked up with him here would only mean pain and suffering for me. When I heard his quiet steps coming up the stairs, I got my phone out, silenced it, then typed a message to Mycroft.

_He's here!_

I sneaked down the corridor. I've tried to find a place where I could hide, but I couldn't open the doors without giving away where was I. Panic started to get the best of me. I was quietly panting, shaking and couldn't think straight.

Mycroft didn't reply.

"Where are you?" Sherrinford sung and I decided I'd walk back to the corridor and Mycroft's room. So be it. If I see him, I'll shoot him. "I know he hid you here. I've been trying to get to you for so long. I miss you, dear. I miss the sound of your screams." I shook as I sneaked back in the room when I heard he'd soon approach the corridor. "And I miss how you looked up at me when I fucked you. I miss how wet your pussy was, for me..."

Tears gathered in my eyes as panic started to settle in. I hid behind the door of Mycroft's bathroom, had the gun ready. He's not touching me ever again, I'd rather die!

"What about a nice little reunion?" His voice clearly sounded from the corridor. I raised my gun and braced myself. "I want to tear your clothes off, tie you to his bed and fuck you deep and hard. What do you say, hmm? Would you like that?"

He reached the door of the room and I tried to stop shaking, but his words — his words brought up the past inside of me and I saw it through my eyes how he violated me against my will. And it blew my bravery away. My mind was paralyzed. I wanted to get away, I wanted to move, but I was frozen with my memories. There was so much pain. I put my left hand on my mouth.

"You surely let him have his way with you, didn't you?" His voice sounded from so close. "How was he like? Gentle? Rough?"

It happened so suddenly. The door I hid behind was slammed shut, and a strong hand gripped my wrist tight with the gun. I let out a yelp when he twisted the gun out of my hand. I was slapped. I kicked and punched, but couldn't see where his sensitive spots were, he had a hard vest on, probably a bulletproof one. Then I felt his knee in my stomach and I fell to the floor. I coughed and put my left arm across my stomach.

"Oh I'll have so much fun with you", he cooed, but I grabbed his leg and pulled it out from under him.

"No!" I shouted.

As he fell I started to make a run for it. I felt he grabbed my trousers, but I didn't care, I tried to step out of it. He yanked it and I fell on my stomach. I didn't feel the pain. He grabbed my left ankle and I kicked with my other leg, aimed for his face. Sherrinford dodged and grabbed my other leg, too.

"Let me go!" I screamed. "Help! Help!"

"Keep screaming, little slut, nobody comes to help you", Sherrinford growled.

He yanked me towards him with his hands, but his face remained vulnerable. I sat up and punched him as hard as I could. I could feel I busted his lower lip. He let out a grunt before he let my ankles go and grabbed my neck with so much force I immediately saw stars. He pushed me away and down, and banged my head against the floor once, twice, three times. I stopped moving.

"You whore!" He shouted above me, then grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet only to toss me on Mycroft's bed. Something heavy and thick hit me across my back. I clawed at the sheets and howled, tried to move away, but new and new blows of a thick belt came at me, not sparing any part of my body. "You fucking stupid whore!"

He grabbed my ankle again and pulled me back to him. His fingers grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. I felt something cold slipped around my neck. I realised it was the belt. He pulled at it, creating a collar and a leash in one.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you yet", he growled in my ear as he tore the shirt off of me.

"No, please! Stop!" I begged and sobbed as I tried to get rid of the belt around my neck, he had no problem undressing me.

"What did I tell you about sweet reunions?"

He chuckled, his voice dripping venom. Sherrinford turned me around and slammed my body against the matress. I banged my head in the headboard and saw stars again. By the time I could regain my consciousness, my wrists were already tied to the bed's posts and the belt was missing from around my neck. I yanked my restraints, but he knew too well how to tie people up perfectly. He smiled down at me when I looked up and removed my remaining underwear at the speed of light. His hair was long and wavy, it seemed he had it dyed black, his eyes clever and burning. He leaned down to me with a knife in his right hand. He pushed the blade under my bra between my breasts and cut it.

"So", he cooed as he reached in his pocket. "How have you been without me fucking your tight little hole? Bored, I imagine." As a reply, I spit at his face. He wiped it off and smiled devilishly, getting out two metal clothespins from his pocket. I shuddered under him. "I wanted to try this before he stole you from me."

I tried to prevent him from touching me, but there wasn't much I could do as I was bound. He put the cold clothespins on my belly and cupped my breasts, then started to gently rub my nipples to make them hard. Tears gathered in my eyes.

"Stop it please", I begged again, "I'll do anything, just stop it..."

"You'll do anything?" He looked in my eyes with a smile. "Then do this: suffer."

He picked up a clothespin and opened it. I knew what he wanted to do and I started screaming way before the clothespin closed tight — very tight — around my right nipple. Sherrinford watched my expression and I realised he was enjoying the sight. He put the other one on my left nipple then flicked them both. It was unbearable.

"I have one more, do you know where will I put that?" He cooed above me.

"No!" I cried, but he only laughed.

"Wait a bit, sweetheart. I'll go outside soon and get a few thin branches." He reached under me and grabbed my ass. I tried to wriggle away. "I'll give you a thorough birching for running away from me."

My eyes widened in horror and he smirked back at me. I shook in his hold.

"No, please!"

"I'll beat your beautiful ass bloody", he cooed as his fingers slipped between my thighs, "then I'll rape you." He pushed a finger inside me and I screamed. "Oh this sloppy cunt. You must enjoy how I torture you."

"No, I don't, let me go!" I cried but he didn't care as his fingers gently rubbed my clit.

"Liar. You're soaking my fingers with your juices. You need to be punished for this. I brought the best tool to do that." He reached in one of his pockets and pulled out a small thing. "Do you know what this is?"

"No", I whimpered in horror, knowing whatever that thing was, it'd only cause me pain.

"It's a ginger root." He smiled. "Something I've never tried before. It is said it causes a burning sensation if it's inserted... somewhere..." His devilish grin made my skin crawl. "So, where do you want it?" I stared up at him with tears in my eyes. He became impatient. "I'll let you choose. I'm being kind here. Choose or you'll get one in both of your holes!"

"No!" I cried, "please don't... don't put it anywhere..."

"I don't think you're listening to me. Answer. Pussy or ass?" I shook my head and sobbed. "Do you want one in both?"

"No Sherrinford, please..."

"Then **CHOOSE!** " He screamed at me and I cried.

I knew I won't escape his crazy games. I knew nobody would come to save me. I knew I'd have to survive whatever torment he had in store for me. So I swallowed.

"Please don't put it in my pussy", I begged quietly and he laughed.

"See? You _can_ be a good girl if you want to. So, where do you want it? Say it."

I closed my eyes, devastated.

"In my ass."

"Ask me."

I continued sobbing. This couldn't be happening, this was a nightmare. I want to wake up from it!

"Ask me!" He yelled at me.

"Please... put it... in my ass." I pushed through my tears and he laughed.

"Now, finally, we're getting somewhere."

And with that, he tossed my legs apart and pushed the ginger between my bums in one swift movement. I howled from the pain. The burn in there felt unbearable. Sherrinford got out a rope from one of his other pockets and tied my legs to the same posts where my wrists were tied — my legs closed and a bit higher, he pushed a pillow under the small of my back. I continued whining and begging for him to take it out. It stung so bad.

"No, it stays in. And, ah! I almost forgot!" He reached between my legs and made sure there's enough space for him to close the last clothespin on my clitoris. I screamed at the top of my lungs; my muscles tightened around the ginger root from the pain, and the burning sensation became even more unbearable. I couldn’t really see from the tears. Sherrinford got up and looked down at me with a smirk. "As I've said, I'll go get some thin branches. I am far from being done with you. You still have a birching to look forward to."

"No... no! Please, I beg you, please!"

"Try and escape if you can. I'll give you..." He checked his watch. "Twenty minutes. Once I'm back I'll beat you bloody, and this is a promise."

I watched him leave the room and he left the door open. I immediately started to stir around but each movement made my muscles down there burn from the root. I screamed, hoping someone would hear and I realised I had no choice to escape. Sherrinford knew how to tie me up perfectly. I won't escape anything.

"You should've listened to me." I looked up and saw my hallucination next to the bed, leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His face was emotionless. "I told you he'd come back and you'd only escape him if you die." I didn't reply. "Now here you are again, you'll be beaten, then raped, and who knows what else will he do to you."

"I need to..." I hissed from the burning feeling. "I need help..."

"You don't have any. You're tied up and nobody comes to the rescue. If Mycroft knew, he'd be here already, but he's not. You're on your own. Again. Just you."

I pulled my hands forcefully. Again and again and again. I heard a quiet creak. Then I pulled it harder. I’ve tried. Another creak, louder, this time. The carved wood flower to which Sherrinford tied my right hand started to give up.

„Come on”, I whimpered and I put all of my power into pulling it with as much force as I could.

A loud **RIP**. The flower broke off. My hand was free!! First of all, I quickly removed the clothespins and the root. Then I tried to untie myself as best I could. I was successful! I tried to figure out how much time passed before I quickly got up and found the gun Mycroft had hid for emergencies. I put my clothes back on as quickly as I could, then made a run for it.

I put on my boots downstairs and sneaked out of the house. I checked where Sherrinford was – he really was collecting branches from the trees and I was very, very tempted to shoot him when he wasn’t paying attention, but decided against the idea when I remembered he was Mycroft’s brother. I couldn’t do it. Wasn’t matter what a crazy asshole he was. With a sigh, I made quick movements towards the car which parked near Mycroft’s house. I sat in and had the gun ready, just in case. He’ll undoubtedly notice it when I started up the car, so I had to be very fast. He left the keys in. I smirked and started the car up.

I was right. I never saw a man run as fast as he did. When he came in the view I already was pulling _away_ from the house, as quick as I could as I made a turn for the road. Sherrinford shouted at the top of his lungs. His face distorted with fury. I lifted up the Glock and aimed for his shoulder.

I felt a sting in my neck. My eyes darted to the back and I noticed a dark haired woman was behind me. The car spiraled out of control as I couldn’t pay attention to it and my limbs also went numb, one by one. As the world started to fade away, I heard her sing.

„Tick, tock, goes the clock, Sherrinford is under dead… _lock…_ ”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Maybe you always knew._

I woke up and the light blinded me. I've felt something move above of me and I stirred as I moaned.

"Oh yes, I'll love this."

Oh no! Not him again! I blinked and tried to move but I had something on. The fabric... it tied my arms across my chest! It was a straitjacket, I couldn't move an inch. I've heard Sherrinford's laughter and my body was moved. He lied me partially on my stomach; I had my face in a pillow, my legs though were bent and — oh no! I was naked save for the straitjacket! I stirred and tried to squirm away, to no avail. He put more restrains around my body and soon I was completely helpless. My head down, my hips high up in the air.

"Hmm, let's see", he purred behind me and I tried to look at him but I couldn't. He cupped my bare bottom and pulled my cheeks apart. I shut my eyes tight. He could see everything, it was so humiliating! "Eurus said I shouldn't torture you much before the grand finale. But I just can't help it." He got up from the bed and was gone for a few moments. I struggled — but the ropes around my ankles were holding me down too tight, this time. I felt him move behind me again. When his hand slapped my bottom, once on each cheek, I let out a yelp. "You were a very bad girl and bad girls get punished."

"No, please!"

"You're well aware I do not care if you beg. Though, I have to admit, it makes me hard. So do continue." I shouted various insults at him and it made him laugh. „I see you’ve got your spirit back. It seems I couldn’t break you in enough. Well, too late for that. If Mycroft survives what Eurus has in store for him, it’ll all end anyway.”

„What the fuck are you talking about?” I turned my head as much as I could, but I couldn’t see his face.

„You’re not taking any contraceptives, do you?” His dark, quiet question sent a shiver down my spine. I immediately went silent. I hesitated. No, I didn’t. But what would he do if I said I didn’t? „No, you’re not. It seems then, I’ll have to punish you in a unique way.”

I shut my eyes tightly and screamed in the pillow when he suddenly pushed something into my other, very tight hole. It stretched my muscles so painfully I couldn’t stop screaming. _What was it?_ **_What was it?!_** Sherrinford moaned, his voice dripped with pleasure and my eyes shot open in horror.

_„NO! NO, **STOP!** ”_

„What did I tell you about begging?” He laughed and got a firm hold of the straitjacket on my back. His hips violently rolled into mine, his lower abdomen hit my ass hard, and I screamed at the top of my lungs from the intense pain. He buried himself deep into my bowels, his cock hard and huge. He didn’t use lube. I thought I’d die right there. „Ah, yes! Scream for me, you slut.”

„STOP, IT **HURTS!** PLEASE! **_NO!_** ”

But he didn’t listen. I continued screaming as he kept moving, as hard as he could. My restraints didn’t let me move at all, I was completely helpless and vulnerable. The pain was untolerable – yet, I couldn’t do anything but to tolerate it.

I wished I’d die.

Then I wished he’d die.

„Ah shit, you’re so fucking perfect. Fucking you feels so good, I’ll miss this”, I gritted my teeth as he fucked me harder and harder, I was sure his member caused injuries inside of me, but I refused to cry, I refused to scream anymore. „If I had more time with your pretty ass, I would’ve trained you there. But we’re running out of time, you see.”

 **„FUCK YOU!”** I shouted angrily.

„Hah, no. I’ll fuck _you_ more instead.”

He purposefully stopped twice before he came. And when he finally did, I was completely shrouded in pain. I didn’t move when he slid out of me, panting. Then his hand touched my pussy. I jerked.

„Well, look at that”, he laughed. „You’re so wet.”

„I’ll kill you”, I whispered into the pillow.

„I’d like to see you try”, he laughed quietly, then I felt a needle run in my thigh and the world went black.

 

"Finally awake." I turned on my right side and put my left hand on my temple. With a groan, I opened my eyes, seeing I was inches away from a steel wall. I felt a shirt and pants on myself. The pain was dull in my bowels. I tried not to care about it. "Took her time with it. Get up, so we can get it over with."

I recognised Sherrinford's voice and I pushed myself up in sitting position. My hands shook. _Oh no, **not** him again!_ I was in a room, which was cut in half by a glass. At the other half of the room, there was Mycroft, who, when he saw I was awake, stared back at the end of the room, toward the exit. We were seperated from it by another glass. I staggered to my feet, with my right hand on the wall next to me. I noticed a table at my side and on it, a single razor. I glanced up at Sherrinford on the screen, who smiled at me sweetly. _Oh God thank you for seperating me from him this time..._

"Eurus didn't care about Mycroft as much as I do. I thought all of what he went through simply just wasn't enough. Elisabeth, your task is to decide it right here, right now."

I had no idea what he was babbling about, but it wasn't even important to me at the moment.

"Decide what?" I mumbled as I started to feel better and better after the awakening.

"You have to choose if you die or he does."

"This is insane!" Mycroft shouted and I swallowed because I felt he was upset and I couldn't do anything about it. Not this time. I gently wrapped an arm around myself and relied on the wall for support. "Stop this right now!"

"Now, now, dear brother. This is just a game. Let Elisabeth decide if she plays or not."

"Yes, he's right, just a game", I stared at Sherrinford's face on the screen, though I sensed Mycroft looked at me again. I didn’t want him to think I was weak, so I pushed myself away from the wall. "So tell me what happens."

"If you decide you'd save yourself, the wall on Mycroft's side will start to move towards the bulletproof glass." I stared at Mycroft. Our eyes met. He was as pale as snow and I was sure I looked the same. "It'd stop there, so it wouldn't kill you, but it'd crush him."

That was out of question. I'd never let that happen. I glanced at the table with the razor.

"But, if you choose to save him instead, you'll have to fill that hole, just right there." I glanced down and noticed an about two inches wide and about five inches long hole in the ground. "It'll stop the wall from moving."

"Fill it with — what?" I asked, though I knew already from the razor on the table.

"Oh, of course, with your blood. One and a half liters. And I only accept blood." I looked back at him as if asking why. "If I can't have you, then no one will."

"Reasonable", I mumbled as I stepped closer to the table.

Being alive meant he’d be able to reach out for me and I didn’t want that at all. I hated him. I despised him. If I had a way to escape _and_ save Mycroft in the process, then I’d do it.

"What's your decision? I want to know what you're thinking of. Tell me!"

"Sherrinford... _please_ ", Mycroft whispered. I heard again, he was very upset. I didn't dare to look at him. "Can't we talk about this?"

"We're way beyond talk, beloved brother. It's time to _act_."

"How do I know you won't hurt him if I do it?" I whispered and Sherrinford laughed dryly.

"You don't. And you won't care if I do."

"I will", I hissed with gritted teeth, "give me your word you'll let him go if I do it."

"Elisabeth..."

"Mycroft, _please_ , **_shut up!_** "

I was ready to cry again but I steeled myself and kept looking at the monitor. Sherrinford's **not** getting the best of me. **_Never again!_**

"Tell me why would you choose dying and I'll consider it", Sherrinford leaned back in his chair.

"Mycroft's an important person and he can not be replaced. We'd lose so much if he died."

"I don't care about that", Sherrinford waved angrily, "I want to know what **YOU** think and feel."

_Conceal, don't show, you're strong, you can do it._

**Fuck it all.**

"I _can't_ lose him."

My voice cracked. Sherrinford's face looked indifferent.

"Why?"

I swallowed but my throat and mouth were dry.

"Is it even important?"

"Of course it is. Maybe this way Mycroft would realise what he's doing to you. Look at him!" I closed my eyes and he shouted at me again. "Look at him!" I did. And Mycroft seemed broken beyond repair. "Why is he so important to you? Why are you so ready to die in his place?" I stayed silent. All of us knew anyway. "Fine. I’ll let him go. But get moving, now", Sherrinford pouted. "Get that blood pumping."

I swallowed. He was right. I took a deep breath and sat, winced from the pain, then stared forward instead as I started to do sit-ups.

"Don't", Mycroft whispered, but I didn't care about him. He'd need to observe it all. To watch me die. But he'd be able to cope with it. I wouldn't survive if I lost him again, I was certain of it. He was stronger than me. He **_had to_** be. "Elisabeth..."

"Stop it", I told him and continued doing sit-ups even faster.

"Listen to me..."

"No."

"You won't make it, I can't help..."

"Who cares?" I spit the words and didn't look at him.

 ** _"I CARE!"_** He yelled at me. I stopped with the sit-ups and stared at him. He was panting just as me. "I care." I heard his throat tightened. "Why don't you?"

"Dying is easy, Mycroft. Living... living is harder."

At this, his expression smoothened out. I smiled at him.

"What?" Sherrinford interrupted.

"She just told me she thinks I'll cope with her death." Mycroft replied emotionlessly.

"And will you?"

"No."

"Of course you will!" I groaned as I stood up. "That's what you do. You stop feeling. I saw you do it many times."

"Just because I often hide it doesn't mean I don't feel anything, Elisabeth."

"Well, you **_will_** stop feeling. You don't have any other choice."

"Listen to me!" He shouted again and came even closer to the glass. He put his hands on it. I picked up the razor and checked the words on it in the light. "Elisabeth, _please,_ don't do this! You don't have to sacrifice yourself for me every time! Let me do it just once!"

"Tough shit, I'm not letting you."

I walked back to that hole. Mycroft followed me on his side.

"Stop it right now! That's an order!" He used his commanding tone, but I didn't even flinch.

"You know I don't take orders", I replied dryly.

"Elisabeth, please, please, look at me." I did. " ** _I beg you._** Please! Don't do this!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mycroft." I whispered. "I'm not strong enough. What I said was true. I'd rather die than lose you again."

"Now, we're finally getting somewhere." Sherrinford sounded pleased. He obviously enjoyed the show. "So many feelings there. Did you know, Mycroft? Have you had any idea about her honest, strong feelings about you? I bet you did. And you wasted all the time you've had with her. Tsk-tsk-tsk. Now that time is running out and you're about to lose her, what do you feel?"

We looked at each other and I smiled at him a little.

"Nothing", he whispered and we knelt on the floor simultaneously. He pushed his forehead against the glass and never took his eyes off of mine. "I feel empty."

"Broken?"

"Yes."

"Hopeless?"

"Yes."

My lips quivered and I told him with my eyes **_don't_**.

"Elisabeth, get to it then, 20 minutes already passed. You don't want that wall to move, do you?"

I swallowed and put the razor to my left wrist. I watched how the cold, sharp metal touched my skin.

"Please, Elisabeth... don't do this to me", Mycroft whispered and I looked at him, smiling.

"Sorry boss, I'm too stubborn."

Stubborn, I was. And desperate. It wasn't just the fact how Sherrinford planned Mycroft's death, it was his death in itself that made it unacceptable. It was too permanent. I've spent months believing he was dead and I couldn't bear the thought of feeling that hopelessness again. That's why I chose this time of my life to give it up. I tried not to think about the consequences. How he'd need to return to his home where my clothes and belongings were. And Ninnie...

I swallowed and looked at my arm again, then pulled the razor as forcefully as I could, up from my wrist across my arm. I didn't feel the pain at first. Mycroft shouted 'no', but I only took the razor in my left hand and did the same to my right arm. Meanwhile, I made sure my blood splattered in the hole; it'd be a shame if all of it went to waste.

I glanced at Mycroft and smiled.

"I have a few requests", I said, my voice calm. I tried to examine his face rather than feeling the pain, but his expression brought me guilt and sadness. Sherrinford destroyed both of us now. "I'd like to be cremated and poured in the Thames. Dramatic, I know. But I don’t want anyone visiting a grave." He didn't reply, but I noticed tears started to gather in his eyes. _Don't you dare,_ I thought, _don't you dare do that to me..._ "I want you to wipe me out. Like I never even existed."

"I... ca... can't", his voice broke and he pushed his forehead against the glass.

"These are my last wishes. Please, Mycroft… respect them." I asked softly. "Sell my apartment and give my belongings to charities." I saw he closed his eyes and I did the same after I saw a tear of his fall. I pushed my forehead at the same spot as he did on the other side. "And... Ninnie. She needs you. Take care of her. Please."

He stayed silent and unmoving before he opened his eyes and looked at me again.

"Alright. I'll do everything."

He sounded stronger now. Sherrinford sighed. I glanced at him and he was holding a gun in his hand.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Elisabeth. You could've stayed with me, but **_nooo_** , you chose to save this pathetic excuse of a man and death instead. You're selfish, you know?"

I laughed weakly. I lost a lot of blood and I started to feel dizzy.

"Selfish?" I smiled again and leaned against the glass. That was the closest I could to be to Mycroft. "...a silly little fish."

At this, Mycroft made a painful noise. I couldn't look at him. I was right back then. I was a slippery little fish, and when the best fisherman thought he had me, I... was about to escape. Not like I wanted any of this. I watched Sherrinford who stared at the both of us.

"I've always wanted someone to die for me. To be unable to survive without me. I look at you two and think to myself... a match, made in Heaven", Sherrinford smiled, finally. _"And ended too early in **Hell**."_

Then he put the gun in his mouth. The screen went suddenly black. The glass at the end of the room opened for both me and Mycroft, who already got to his feet. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, I was in his arms. I smiled. Content.

_Hello, you._

_My Guardian Angel._

_We meet again._

_I missed your warmth so much. I dreamed about being this close to you, I wanted to feel your scent and arms around me. I feel safe here. Nothing can hurt me anymore. I can die now in peace. In your arms, it'll be like I'm just drifting off to sleep again._

"Don't give up", Mycroft whispered as he tried everything to keep the blood in me.

"Your... suit..." I mumbled.

"What about it?" He asked quietly and his voice shook as he slipped a hand on my face to keep my head up.

"It's... bloody..."

"I won't be upset about it if you're not leaving me now."

I smiled again and felt the hot tears roll down across my temples, into my hair.

"Sorry, boss. Can't... do..."

"Elisabeth, don't you dare!"

 _I wanted to tell you,_ I thought, _I wanted to make it right. But I couldn't. And now I have no strength left in me to speak. I don't have time to explain anything. But maybe, you know already. Maybe you know better than I do. Maybe you always knew._ I swallowed.

"Mycroft..."

"Yes?"

I focused, to see his beautiful eyes for the last time and saw tears in there, again. I didn't notice a few of them already fell on my face. My bloody fingers stroked his cheek lightly before my hand fell back on my chest.

**_"Gotcha."_ **

My eyes rolled up in my skull and I heard Mycroft shout at the top of his lungs, but few moments later silence engulfed me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THE END**  
>   
>  (...or NOT???)


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What's your oh-so-good reason to always try and get in my way?!"

All this damned **PAIN!**

I couldn't open my eyes yet. I moved my tongue in my mouth and felt like I had iron in there. I frowned. I didn't die. Again. I probably was at Bart's. Again. Mycroft saved me. Again.

_Mycroft...!_

I opened my eyes finally and it was dark in my room. I hissed as I tried to move in the bed, but every movement hurt so much I basically was numb. Shit. I searched for the nurse button in the dark and noticed it near my hand. I immediately pressed it.

So nostalgic. Someone ran down the corridor, burst in my room, turned up the light. I closed my eyes and groaned.

"Damn it, why must everyone blind me with the fucking lights!" I whined as my eyes finally got used to it. By that time a warm hand already started to examine me. "When did it happen?"

"Two days ago", Chloe replied and I sighed.

"Shit. So that's why it hurts so much..."

"Don't move", she warned, "your system needs time."

"I don't have time", I mumbled as I reached for my phone. "I need... I need..." I blinked. I wanted a hamburger, but then... _Mycroft..._ "Mycroft", I whispered and I smiled slightly. "I need Mycroft."

"We'll call him in the morning, don't worry about that."

"Yeah yeah you can leave me now, I'm alive and fine."

I waved her off and picked up my business phone. I typed a message for him with a smirk.

_I demand a big Whopper menu from Burger King. With cola and mayo. Now. E_

I grinned to myself as I sent the message.2 am. Impossible he'd come here now. Though, five minutes after, I received a text from him.

**On my way. — M**

I smiled. I called back Chloe, asked her to help me have a shower, asked her to change the sheets and I also got a new pyjama. As I waited alone in my fresh bed, again, tears filled my eyes. I had to put him through Hell. I showed him I was ready to die for him, instead of him. What could he possibly think of me, now? We passed every and any kind of relationship I could think of. I couldn't put him anywhere and I was in a dilemma because of it again.

Boss? **No.**

Partner? **No.**

Lover? **No.**

Friend? **No.**

Guardian? Hm. Guardian. Maybe. A guardian I loved desperately, endlessly, hopelessly. A guardian I trusted with my life and everything I owned, including Ninnie, as if he was my best friend. A guardian who had enough authority and power to order me around like a boss.

 **God fucking damnit.** He was everything. Was it even possible?!

When I heard the steps down the corridor again, I knew it was him. I knew this sound. I'd recognise his steps any time. Shortly after, he finally arrived and opened my door. He was as pale as the wall behind him, his skin dark under his eyes, but his gaze was so intense I immediately regretted waking him up at this hour.

Though, something whispered to me from the back of my mind, he looks like he had no sleep at all.

"Here, eat", he said, his voice hoarse and he put a Burger King paper bag in my lap.

I opened it immediately and picked out the hamburger. As I bit into it and moaned with pleasure, I watched Mycroft as he sat in the chair he brought close to my bed.

He looked ill.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I opened the mayo then grabbed a few chips to dip them in there.

Mycroft didn't reply, just stared at me. I thought alright, he'll give me the cold shoulder now again. Not like I deserved it. I came back from the dead again. It seemed it wasn't a big deal anymore... as minutes passed and I ate myself through the paper bag — moaning sometimes both from the pain and from the incredible taste of the food —, I noticed he started to get from being _slightly annoyed_ to **extremely pissed**.

His mind was racing and he refused to hide it from his expression. It would've been amusing if I had no idea I caused it. Again. I saw and felt he'd unleash his wrath on me as soon as I finished eating. So, I took my time. Slowed down with it. Chewed every bite as if it was my last, because it may be... I offered the chips to him just once, but the look he gave me in return discouraged me.

_I was in deep, deep, **very deep** shit._

When I was finally finished and drank some from the Cola, he took the opportunity to get the empty paper bag from my lap and put it in the bin next to my bed. I put the Cola on my nightstand when I felt him sitting on the edge of my bed.

I looked up at him shyly and thought _oh shit. He's going to execute me bare handed. Oh wait. He won't even need his hands to do it._

"As you probably noticed, you've survived this, too." He started. Slow. His voice still hoarse. Unusual and quiet and emotionless. _The calm before the Arma-mother-fucking-geddon._ "They weren't sure you would."

"Well, this isn't the first time they underestimated me."

I tried to joke to lighten his mood. All I've got in return was a vicious snarl. Whatever leash held him back was broken now and was five thousand miles behind him. I couldn't recall if he ever was this angry with me before.

"What were you thinking?!" He growled at me and didn't even wait for me to reply. "Sherrinford lied, the wall never would've moved. It was just a test to see what would you do under these circumstances."

I blinked at him. Why did it even matter?

"And? At the moment both of us thought what he said was real. It's not like I would've made a different decision."

He pushed his next words through his gritted teeth.

"Except you never should've done this!" He looked at my arms and I sighed.

"It's fine."

 **"It's not!"** He shouted now. He worked himself up so much he couldn't contain it any longer. He probably bottled all these feelings up in the past two days. " **It's not fine!** You could've died there!"

"Yes, I know!" I spat back angrily. "This was the whole point! He wanted to see if I was strong enough to prove..."

"You never should've tried to prove him anything! Why did you even go into it?! Even if I was about to die, **you should've let me!** "

At this I got so angry I started to shout as well.

"I've spent **MONTHS** thinking you're dead and I'm **NOT** putting myself through that again, **EVER!!** " My hands shook. Tears of anger filled my eyes. His expression smoothed out a little. But not enough. " **SO** thank you very much, if I have a saying in it, you live, **I DIE!** _Suck it up!_ "

"I refuse to accept that!"

"Tough shit, I don't care!"

**"ELISABETH!"**

We stared at each other angrily and I noticed I was panting. Why did he even come here and bring me food if he wanted to tear me apart?

"I held you in my arms and thought I lost you, why don't you realise how that felt?" _Okay._ That felt like a stab to my heart, because I could imagine that. I swallowed. "Do you have any idea how much I hated myself for not being able to protect you?"

"I never needed it. I can take care of myself."

"Really?! Just how many times does it happen that you do something _incredibly **stupid**?! _ Every week? Oh wait, every day!"

I grew even angrier.

"Why do you even try to protect me, anyway?! What's your oh-so-good reason to always try and get in my way?!"

I thought, this is it, he's going to strangle me now. As dark as his face got, I was sure by the time he leaves I'll be truly dead. He replied, without thinking, and I knew it'd destroy me.

"My oh-so-good reason is that **I LOVE YOU!** "

What?

_What??_

**_What???_ **

**_Oh. My. God._** He just... Mycroft just... _am I dreaming or really dead??_ Well. I anticipated a lot of things. But not this. Though, my anger didn't vanish that easily. With as much grace as I could muster, I turned my chin up. _You're **so not** winning this round._

"Well, I love you more!" I argued. "It's obvious!"

"Oh no, you don't", he hissed.

Then we moved at the same time. I grabbed his tie and pulled him to me as he got a hold of my face, his gloved hands caging it gently and in the next moment he kissed me so forcefully I could've sworn he wanted to remove my very soul through my mouth. I reciprocated, angrily, desperately, viciously, biting and sucking his lips here and there, making sure I'd leave marks on them as my hand gripped his tie tighter just when his tongue pushed through my teeth and met mine. I nearly melted, it felt so good. I loved every second of it and didn't want to let him go.

But alas, I became tired way too fast. And of course, he noticed it. He pecked my lips a few more times and pulled away gently. I leaned against the pillows, panting, with closed eyes.

"You idiot", I murmured and he refused to reply. His lips pecked my forehead, my closed left eye, my left cheek, the tip of my nose. "You're so stupid..."

"Tell me something I don't know", he whispered, his hot breath on my lips and kissed me again. I slipped my aching arms around his neck and let out a happy squeak in his mouth. When he pulled away again, he kissed my chin and pushed his lips against my neck and he groaned. "I wanted to feel your racing heartbeat against my lips for so long..."

I swallowed. Because damn it, these words made me hot and bothered.

"Behold my deadly octopus hug", I mumbled to him. He chuckled against my neck. "Laugh while you can. You're never going anywhere ever again."

"I know", he said quietly and moved his arms to hold me. "And I'm just fine with it."

I moved my head and kissed his temple.

"You look drained. Have you slept?"

"No."

"At all?" I asked, worried.

"Maybe an hour or two. Can't tell."

"You must be exhausted."

"I don't want to sleep."

"Why?"

"Because there's this frightening thought in the back of my mind that you're dead in reality and I just imagine or dream this."

I ran my fingers in his hair and kissed his cheek. Then I gently rubbed his back and left my arms there. Every movement hurt, but I wasn't about to let him know.

"I'm not dead. You saved me again." I murmured softly. "I'm really here with you. And I care and worry about you."

He buried his face deeper in the crook of my neck.

"I'll be fine."

"No..." I grumbled but he didn't move, didn't reply. He was so still. Relaxed. Calm. Peaceful. I wondered if he fell asleep there already. He started to become heavy. "Forget the deadly octopus hug for now. Listen, get off your coat and shoes and lie with me."

At this, he inhaled sharply. Yepp. Definitely dozed off in my neck. He moved and I let him pull away and he took his gloves off, placing them nicely on my nightstand. Then he got up and took his coat off. I watched him as he removed the suit jacket, the waistcoat, his shoes. I wondered if he was so exhausted, how could he still fold everything so neatly on the chair. Then he removed his tie. His sleeve garters. His watch.

**"Mycroft!"**

"Hmm?"

"You're taking forever and I am tremendously impatient."

At this he turned to look at me and flashed a heart warming smile.

"Give me some room, then."

I did. When he finally climbed in the bed next to me I immediately snuggled to him, my arms between us and on his chest, legs pushed against his. He made sure both of us were covered with the blanket and left his arm around me, holding me close. I made a happy quiet noise.

"Finally", I mumbled almost disapprovingly and he chuckled as he kissed my forehead.

"I'm not letting you go", he whispered.

"You better not", I smiled.

As we laid there in this warm embrace, I wondered briefly how he truly felt and what did exactly happen there. I had lots of questions. What did Eurus? What did Sherrinford talk about? Where were we? How could he cope with what happened? Sherrinford wanted to kill both of us, and almost succeeded, but he still was Mycroft's brother and he shot himself. Or he didn’t? The screen went blank before that. Sadly, both of us were too drained to talk. His legs twitched a little and judging by the way he was breathing he was already asleep, so I smiled and relaxed.

We'll have plenty of time, anyway.

 

We slept through the dawn but when I woke up, he wasn't there with me. I immediately called for the nurse who later told me I could go home that day — Mycroft would pick me up after breakfast.

I could leave _’at my own risk’_ and all that jazz, of course. But I was stable enough and I was sure Mycroft would stuff me like a pig and wouldn't let me get up from the bed anyway. So all I'd need to do back at his ~~house~~ manor was healing.

And _lo behold_ — _he kept his word!_ Just a bit later after my breakfast, he showed up. In a different suit. Looking still ~~sexy~~ exhausted. I was already dressed. And he kept shaking his head at that.

"I know you hate to be in hospital, but being this eager to leave is a bit too much."

" ** _You_** try and spend days here", I teased as I slipped an arm around his for support. He sent my bag forward with a guard to his car and he didn't hurry me. He still looked pale. I thought he was probably worrying for me while he was away. I was surprisingly cautious with moving around, I didn't want him to sentence me to more hospital days. I also didn’t want to faint. My body felt weird. "You'd get bored _less_ than ten seconds."

"That may be so", he shook his head as we turned left at a corner towards the exit. "But you've lost too much blood and you really **_need_** time. And the wounds — your left arm has exactly 54 stitches, the right 50. You cut yourself so deep you even damaged your muscles. Be grateful if you can lift up _anything_ later in your life."

I swallowed. I felt bad how much they updated him about my condition and how much trouble I got myself into again. As we walked, I panted. I started to feel dizzy. Mycroft noticed and he stopped, bringing his other arm around me to give me more support.

"I wouldn't need to lift up things", I teased.

I felt he looked at my face and I smirked to myself.

"Enlighten me, why is that?"

"Because wherever I go, you'll be there to help me."

He held me closer. I blushed deeply when I felt he kissed my temple.

"Fair enough."

We continued walking. Slowly, down the stairs, through the hall, out of the door which was held for us by one of his men. He seemed so young and nervous. He must’ve been new, I’ve never seen him before.

"Thank you", I beamed a smile at him for keeping the door for us.

"Ma'am", he bowed his head nervously.

I grinned as Mycroft helped me sit in the car. **_Ma'am._** Ah, yes. I'll forever grin if they kept calling me like this.

"You're doing it again", Mycroft noted as he sat next to me.

"Do what?" I cocked a brow at him.

"You're being irresistible."

My blush returned as I took his right hand with my left and entwined our fingers. His hand was so warm and his hold was tight. I couldn't stop smiling.

"Are you still jealous?" I teased once more.

_"Jealous?"_

Mycroft couldn't stop the grin spreading on his face. He lifted my hand up and kissed my skin again. He was so gentle with me, I seriously loved it.

"Oh no, not at all", he reassured me. "I know you're mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a holly jolly Christmas, my dearest, most lovely Readers. All of you! <3 Thank you for all of your hits, kudos, comments, subscriptions and bookmarks for this story. I'm so grateful! :)


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „You’re saying things like this just to make me blush!”

Downstairs we found Ninnie who ran to us happily. I sighed and remembered how I locked her up in my room. I tried not to get upset about it. When he felt I held onto his arm a bit tighter, I felt Mycroft looked at me, but neither of us said anything. I was thinking about how barely I escaped Sherrinford and he probably knew.

He helped me walk up the stairs. When we approached his room, I tensed up even more. I chose not to talk about it right now – how I left the ropes behind and broke a piece off of his bed’s headboard… I sincerely hoped he didn’t find the clothespins and that ginger in the bathroom’s trash bin where I threw them… but there was little hope. Mycroft was too clever for his own good and I knew he was able to put together any puzzle.

Everything looked untouched, though. New sheets, different from what it was when Sherrinford caught me. The painting was different, too, and it was back at its place. I noticed the flower I broke off was glued back to its place. Mycroft gently kissed my temple.

„Lunch in bed?”

I sighed. He started it waaay before I thought he would. I eyed him, and he cocked a brow.

„Sentenced to stay in the bed, I presume?” I teased and his lips twitched.

„Until I see fit, yes.” I rolled my eyes and he chuckled playfully. „Change into something more comfortable and I’ll be back with food.”

„And answers.”

At my reaction, his eyes slightly narrowed. But he nodded, nevertheless.

„And answers.”

He turned to leave and I followed him, walking in my room to find clothes. I decided to have a shower, just in case – I reeked from the hospital and I hated it –, then got dressed and walked back in his room. I sat on the edge of the bed and thought for a few minutes until he arrived. He sat next to me and put a tray on my lap with some sort of pie on it with a glass of – probably – peach juice.

„Wow!” My eyebrows ran up on my forehead. „Shepherd’s pie!”

„I wanted to try something new.”

I stabbed my fork into it as he talked, then tasted it and nearly melted.

„Oh my God this is **_amazing!_** ” I mumbled at the still warm piece of Heaven in my mouth and Mycroft chuckled. „It’s perfect!”

„Well that’s an overstatement, Elisabeth.”

„You’re so talented with cooking!”

„I just followed what was written in the recipe.”

I rolled my eyes at his mumbling – clearly, he had no idea how great it tasted after the hospital food –, and stuffed my face, moaning from time to time. When I was done, I sipped my drink, and yes, it was peach. With a content smile, I looked at him.

„So, how was it, master chef?” He teased and I felt I blushed.

„Five stars.”

„Maybe I should open a restaurant.” He took the tray from me with a smile. „I’ll be back in a moment.”

„You better”, I smiled and watched him get up and leave the room. I climbed under the duvet and breathed in his scent all around the sheets. I loved it. He came back to me a few minutes later. With a sigh, he lied down next to me up on the bed, despite he was still in his suit, however, his jacket was missing. I instinctively snuggled to him. And I hummed when I felt his arms sliding protectively around me. „Yes, this is good. I’d like to stay like this forever, thank you.”

Mycroft chuckled quietly and ran a hand in my hair.

„If it’s up to me, then it can be easily arranged.”

I giggled playfully, then snuggled to him more, an arm of mine resting across his chest. I felt he gently traced his other hand around my bandages and I felt slightly bad. I knew I’d carry those scars on me for a lifetime. I knew Mycroft would be reminded of what happened there every time he looked at it. I sighed.

„Please tell me what happened and why”, I asked him and I felt he stiffened under me.

„It’s a very long story, Elisabeth.”

„I’m sure we have the time.”

„Then there’s something you must know about my sister. She’s been capable of persuading people to do the unthinkable since she was five. We realised it too late she turned the entire staff on her side. When I visited Sherlock to fill him in with the details about Eurus, we were attacked. A bomb, attached to a drone, came in his apartment. After it blew up I wrote the text to you and with a little help I pretended I was in hospital, badly injured, then we set off to Sherrinford, the prison, where Eurus was held. Or so we thought. In the past few months I started to have that… unsettling feeling that she wasn’t exactly a prisoner there, and the news Sherlock and John told me only confirmed those thoughts.” He stayed silent for a few moments so I could absorb the news. His fingers played with my hair and I could feel his nervousness through his touch. „I sent a special group to get you out of the house, but because of Sherrinford’s own little group, they never made it here.” He sounded slightly irritated when he admitted this. „I didn’t know they never succeeded. When we arrived at the prison, Eurus prepared a sick game of sorts for Sherlock in which I had to play.”

„What sort of game?” I asked, and his hand froze.

„Please, don’t ask.”

I pulled slightly away to look up at his face. He seemed upset about it and his expression shattered me.

„I’m so sorry, Mycroft”, I mumbled, then kissed his cheek gently.

„It’s fine. It’s over now.” He shook his head slightly. I lied back down on his chest and he continued. „After Sherlock and John were sedated and taken away to a final ’game’, a few armed men moved me to the room where you were at – the rest, you know.”

„And what of Sherrinford?”

„We saw he put the gun in his mouth”, Mycroft started to play with my hair again. „But he never got a chance to pull the trigger. My men arrived just in time to seize him. He’s there, alive. Both him and Eurus under the biggest security.” He felt I wanted to say something about this, so he added, „Eurus became unresponsible to anything and Sherrinford has no one at his side anymore. He’s going to stay there until his last breath.”

Mycroft’s last sentence sounded harsh and I knew he was very angry at Sherrinford. But, of course, he couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything bad to him. After all, Sherrinford was his brother and I knew from what Mycroft told me that family was very important to him. I sighed.

„I’ve had a chance to shoot him here once, you know”, I mumbled in his chest. His hand froze in my hair. „But I couldn’t do it.”

„Why?”

His quiet question still sounded angry.

„Because I knew he’s your brother.”

It was him, this time, who moved me away to look at my face. He looked so angry.

„Are you _stupid?_ ”

His question made me blink rapidly and it felt like a hard slap across my cheeks. I blushed.

„No. I’m not. But I care about you enough not to cause you that much pain.”

„You should’ve taken him out when you had the chance.”

I stared at him, shocked.

„And how would you look at me now if I killed your brother?” I shook my head. „Every time you’d look at me you’d see a cold blooded murderer who killed a member of your family…”

„You just should’ve made him immobile. And that’d be better than to see _this!_ ” He took my hands and turned my palms up so my lower arms faced the ceiling.

„Stop overreacting it!” I whined but he didn’t want to have any of my protests.

„ **No!** He nearly succeeded taking you away from me. **_Twice!_** And if he ever had the chance, he’d certainly try it again.”

„But he’s still your brother.”

„He ceased to be my brother the first time he kidnapped you.”

My mouth crashed against his. I wanted to shut him up, I wanted him to change the subject. I knew he hated my battle wounds, but I wanted him to understand that he’d need to accept them, because they were there to show the world I was ready to do anything to keep him safe. No price was too high in exchange for his life. For me, at least.

„I know what the purpose of this was”, he grumbled when he pulled away finally, forcing his lips not to smile. I saw he slightly blushed and I was still bewildered because of it a little. The Iceman was capable of blushing. I was sure only I knew this. „And let me tell you, it’s not working.”

„Come on”, I sighed and pecked his lips. I smiled faintly. „You taste like tea.”

„And you taste like Shepherd’s pie.”

„Not sorry. It was delicious.”

„Which makes you delicious, too.”

I blushed more.

_„Mycroft!”_

„What?” He smiled innocently, then the tip of his nose gently stroked mine. I closed my eyes and smiled. „It’s true.”

„You’re saying things like this just to make me blush!”

„Is it this obvious? Hmm. You’re starting to read me well.”

I leaned towards him and kissed him again. I playfully purred and bit his lower lip gently, to which he inhaled deeply. Was I making him nervous? Aroused? Uncomfortable? He slipped his hands on the sides of my face, then ran his fingers in my hair as he deepened the kiss. Our tongues met again. I moaned in his mouth softly. I actually felt the flavour of the tea he drank, with a hint of milk and... sugar. Mycroft was sweet. I smiled. He hummed. Then he pulled away and looked at me.

"What is it?" He inquired gently.

"I just..." I blinked and smiled again as I looked down shyly. A few moments later I looked back up in his eyes. Then I shook my head. “You already know.”

“I’d like to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“Because lately, I’d like to know how you’re putting it into words what you feel.”

I blushed. And his lips curled up more. He really liked to make me red.

“I’m just very happy. That we’re alive. And together. And… and that I know my feelings are returned.”

He blinked a few times, then tilted his head. He was wondering about something. As I examined his face from this close, I saw he slightly furrowed his brows.

“What is it?” This time, it was me who asked.

Mycroft breathed in, slow. Then he swallowed.

“I’m thinking about the time when you told me that I was mean with you.”

“What about it?”

“Have you ever wondered why was I mean with you?”

I furrowed my brows, too.

“No… I thought you didn’t like me all of sudden. But I didn’t really know why. Everything seemed to work for two months and then you suddenly hated me.”

Mycroft ran his fingers in my hair. His eyes followed the way my locks gently stroked his hand. He hesitated for a few moments.

“Hated you? No. On the contrary.” He gently replied, still watching as he played with my hair. “I realised I liked you more than I should. So I tried to make you hate me. I figured it’d be best if you left and I never saw you again.”

I was speechless for a few minutes. His eyes found mine again and I saw he wanted to know what did I think about this. I was slightly shocked and flattered. So that’s why he sabotaged everything I wanted to do. The dates with Scott and Sherlock… oh God, Sherlock. I bit my lip when I realised how he must’ve felt when I went out with his brother.

“Why didn’t you just try and, I don’t know, ask me out for a dinner?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Because I thought you deserved better than an old man like me?”

I rolled my eyes, this time.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I am not ridiculous.”

“You are. If you deduce so much from people, how couldn’t you notice that I fancied you?”

“I shrugged it off. As women usually like men with power and money, I didn’t think you’d be even interested in me for real, at first. I realised you were, later, though.”

“When?”

“When you locked me out of Hill’s house.”

I bit my lip.

“Well. _Sentiment drives people to do the unthinkable_ , as you told me once.”

“Yes. And you weren’t rational at all, there. And that was the second time!”

“You weren’t rational, either. Staying on that island with me… when we could’ve died…”

“But we didn’t.”

“I find myself lucky for surviving that. I nearly passed out before I could deactivate the bomb.”

“I know. I was still there when they brought you up…”

I put my head back on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. I closed my eyes and smiled.

“Have you found the perfect category for me?” He asked after a few minutes of silence while he continued playing with my hair.

“Hmm”, I snuggled to his chest more. “I was thinking about this before you came in the hospital after I woke up.”

“And?”

“You’re one of a kind. So there’s a category named _Mr._ _Mycroft Holmes_ , now.”

Mycroft chuckled, and stayed silent. After a few minutes, I fell asleep.

 

I regained my strength faster than I thought. I wasn’t allowed to get up for a few days, but when I became too bored, he decided it was time to leave his bedroom. So I started to nag him about work. Once again, I found myself bored. And I felt useless. And he knew. So this time, he didn’t really argue with me, he simply let me go back to work a few days after.

“Ahhh!” I sighed as I sat down in front of my computer. I felt weird a little. Mycroft stayed nearby his opened door, and when I looked at him he smiled gently. “Huh?”

“I’m just happy to see you there, that’s all”, he replied as he walked over to me.

My computer booted up, then I opened the e-mails and I started to read them. Mycroft stayed in front of my desk. I looked up at him.

“Would you please open an e-mail and read it?” He asked.

“Why?”

“Just do it for me.” I shrugged at this and I resumed reading the first unread e-mail. Mycroft hummed. When I looked up at him again, he leaned closer to me. I didn’t know what he want to do, so I cocked a brow. “Why are you squinting?”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I looked at the monitor again and I noticed it, this time. I looked up at him, surprised.

“The words are blurry. I see better if I squint.”

Mycroft tilted his head.

“Alright. Have a nice day.”

As he walked back to his office, I didn’t think much of it. I continued to work – and realised my eyes got tired very fast. When time went by and my break was near though, an older woman showed up before my desk with a rather big brown handbag.

“Elisabeth Lone?” She asked and I nodded. “I was told you needed your eyes checked.”

I forced a smile on my face as I stood up.

“Just a moment, please sit down there.”

When she did, I walked in Mycroft’s office and I shut the door behind me. He didn’t even look up from his laptop.

“Yes?” He grumbled. “What’s wrong?”

“My eyes are perfectly fine!” I tried to stay calm, but I really couldn’t. Mycroft glanced up at me with caution in his eyes. “I don’t need anyone to ‘check them’!”

“Squinting is a sign you don’t see well. And you said the words were blurry…”

“I don’t want to be checked!”

“Why not?”

While I couldn’t stay calm and raised my voice, he seemed more cool and collected. He leaned back in his chair – goddamnit he looked amazing today, as usual – and sized me up with caution.

“I’m fine!”

“Elisabeth…”

“Why do you never ask me about anything?”

“Listen–”

“You just keep your thoughts to yourself and then throw me–”

“ ** _No!_** ” He raised his voice and I suddenly cut off. Mycroft sighed and half shook his head as he pressed his lips together. “I worry about you and I want the best for you. And you might need glasses. I wouldn’t be surprised; you’re looking at screens a lot–”

I didn’t hear what he was saying anymore. My mind only focused on one word. Glasses. **_Glasses!_** Like I was fifty. Even the Old Hag didn’t wear glasses!

“No! I won’t wear glasses!”

At my words Mycroft’s calm expression broke into a smile.

“As a matter of fact, I think you’d look amazing with glasses.”

**_The bastard._ **

“No, I wouldn’t, you just say this to change my mind.”

Mycroft stood up and walked over to me as he slipped his hands in his pockets.

“Do you think I’d lie to you?” His calm, deep tone sent a shiver down my spine.

“Don’t… don’t manipulate me…”

I tried to look away but he gently got a hold of my jaw and turned my head back so I was forced to look up at him again. I immediately blushed. His lips’ left side twitched upwards.

“Just go out there and have that check up, alright? For me. Maybe it’ll turn out I was wrong and you need a better monitor.”

My eyes wandered on his lips and I sighed. He gently kissed me and my legs turned to jelly. When he released me, I shook my head.

“Fine…”

“Thank you, Elisabeth.”

He released me and walked back to his desk, and I turned to open his door with a deeper sigh.

_I won’t wear glasses._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are over... so I'm free to write without feeling bad for not studying, haha! :D


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “He’s breaking many habits because of you. Do not make him feel like it’s a bad thing.”

I walked back to the doctor who told me to sit down and she started her examination. It was fascinating how well prepared she was. She used all sorts of modern things to determine if I really needed glasses. And the verdict was clear half an hour later.

Yes, I needed them.

It wasn’t a huge difference though, but when she put the appropriate lenses up on me, I immediately felt why I needed it. I walked back to my monitor and to my utter surprise, the words now looked completely clear.

_Well, **shit**._

“I’d advise you to come to my office tomorrow, so you can pick out a frame”, she offered. I nodded, defeated. “Here’s the address.”

She handed me a card and I bid her goodbye. I walked back to my desk and started to work again. But now that I knew I really needed that damned thing, I started to become more and more upset because of it. I didn’t **_want_** glasses! I was fine without them. What sort of a secret agent had glasses? **_Seriously._** My mood wasn’t better when it was time for my lunch break.

“Elisabeth, are you here?” Mycroft asked quietly as he walked up to my desk. I was still seething, so when I looked up at him, he cocked a brow. “Wearing glasses isn’t the end of the world. You’ll still be beautiful, even with them, trust me.”

I nearly blushed. But I was pouting so much I refused to do so. I refused to look up at him.

“I will not be beautiful with glasses. Stop trying to make me feel better about it.”

"If it bothers you so much, you could have contact lenses."

I shivered and looked up at him with a grimace. Put things **_in my eyes??_** No way!

"I'm not... I won't put anything on my eyes!"

"Glasses it is, then."

"No!"

"According to the newest research, not wearing glasses when one needs them only makes it worse."

I glared up at him. When did he look for this research? And why?? Why must he always bother me with these things?!

"You're putting your nose in affairs which does not concern you."

Mycroft pressed his lips together.

"Elisabeth, I just want to make sure your needs are met."

"However, your nose is big enough to put it in the wrong places."

His lips became thinner.

"Why won't you accept my advices?"

"I didn't ask for them, thank you."

"I only wish to take care of you!"

"You don't have to! And stop pushing me around! I'm not a child."

His expression suddenly smoothened out. Oh no! Did I take it too far? Did I hurt him with my words?

"As you wish, my lady."

He turned and walked away and I finally blushed at how he called me. I hid my face in my hands. I just told him I wasn't a child and I acted exactly like a child. I threw a ridiculous tantrum when he was right about everything and he really just wanted to take care of me. I groaned. Then I got up and walked after him. He still stood near the door and picked up a file from the small table there; so when he looked at me, I closed the door and sighed.

"I'm sorry."

He blinked at me before he looked down at the file again.

"Forget it."

"No, listen..." I gently got a hold of his arm and moved towards him. I hugged him and rested my head on his chest. He froze. "I'm really sorry. It's just... it's still new to me."

"What is?"

"That I really mean something to you."

At this, he sighed and moved an arm around me.

"You're important to me, Elisabeth. And I want the best for you."

I smiled and looked up at him.

"I know."

He smiled back and gently kissed me. Once again, I felt like my legs turned to jelly. If I wasn't used to him trying to take care of me, I wasn't used to these kisses, either. It felt like he emptied my head and all of my worries and concerns were gone. Only he existed. And his lips. I hummed. He hummed back, his voice questioning. I pulled away and felt like I smiled like a retard, now.

"You taste like tea again."

"Tea is a must."

"You're sweet."

Mycroft cocked a brow. Then he slipped a hand under my jaw and looked deeply in my eyes. **_Holy shit!_** What was he doing? It felt like I swallowed a handful of butterflies and they suddenly threw a party in my stomach.

"For your lips only", he softly replied. When he saw my blush he chuckled, low. "Breathe, Elisabeth. I wouldn't want you to faint, now."

I rolled my eyes and he pulled away as he chuckled again.

" **Stop it** ", I warned playfully.

"You may have your break, now", he said then, turning to walk to his desk. I bit my lip as I watched him walk. _Oh **that** booty. _ How I'd grab it! Or even better, how I'd spank it, just to see his reaction! I want that booty to be mine. My face turned scarlet immediately and I quickly pulled my phone out to pretend I was watching that. _Phew, it became so hot all of sudden! **Oh no!**_ I was so naughty! And now I had an urgent need! "Why are you so red?"

I gulped.

"I'll have my break!"

I left in a hurry.

 

That evening I’ve had problems concentrating on our cooking. As he got his suit’s jacket off, some parts of his body were more visible. _Oh God. If you **do** exist, you must love teasing me with your creation. _ I was chewing my lips as I cut up the potatoes to small pieces, I was thinking about the possible scenarios in which I’d finally catch a glimpse of his pair of manly bums. Oh boy. If I squeezed it, would it be soft? Or a little hard? I could imagine something would get definitely hard, if I grabbed his backside… oh no! I probably was as red as a tomato.

“What’s wrong? You’re so red again.”

“Nothing!” I whined in a high pitched voice.

If he so much as suspected my naughty thoughts, he’d never let me live it down. When I looked at his face he was examining me with a cocked brow. Thank God no one was near us to see what did I watch before I became crimson faced.

“What are you thinking of?”

I batted my eyelashes at the potato. Innocently.

“Nothing.”

“You do know nothing stays hidden before me.”

His quiet warning made me even more flustered. I quickly finished the potato and he dealt with putting it in a pot. I watched him pour some water on the pieces and wondered if his hands really were this beautiful all the time or was it just the light…?

“You’ve been acting strange all day.” He noted as he walked over to me. He narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, my lord.”

At this, his eyes flashed playfully and his lips turned up into a mischievous smile.

“My lady blushed way too many times today when I believe I didn’t give her that much reason to do so. I’d like to know why.”

This time, I managed to look innocently – right in his face. Of course, this only added to his suspicions that indeed I, had naughty thoughts.

“A girl has her silly thoughts.”

_“Silly?”_

When did he get so close to me? I felt like a little mouse in front of a big bad cat, and honestly, I became so excited.

“My lord would blush too if he knew”, I whispered.

“Well then, tell him, so he may decide himself.”

I arched a brow, slowly.

“Being nosy isn’t very appropriate, my lord.”

His hand gently stroked mine. Up and down, up and down. Teasingly slow and gentle. I loved it.

“It is my job to be nosy.”

_With a nose this big, I am not surprised._

"It is rather a bad habit, wouldn't you agree?"

He raised his fingers and gently tickled me under my chin.

"It's not."

"Why?"

"Because I protect myself from surprises."

"You don't like surprises?"

"I'm not overly fond of them."

I raised my arms and slipped them around his shoulders. As a reply, he gently placed his hands on my hips. I shivered a little; his hands were warm and it felt really nice.

"Living with me brings surprises of their own, hmm? Like, me lying on top of you every morning", I teased.

"Those surprises, I like", he admitted.

I giggled and gently bumped the tip of my nose to his. Then... I've had an idea. Another, naughty, idea.

"Do you have any idea how much I want you?"

My quiet quiestion visibly caught him off guard. His breathing ceased for a moment, then it became shallow.

"I wasn't prepared for this surprise", he mentioned.

“And is it bad?”

“No.”

I ran my fingers in his hair at the back of his head. He shivered and I smiled. I knew he enjoyed this.

"Do you have any idea how much I'd love to make you moan my name?"

Mycroft swallowed. Did I actually try to seduce him, now? Yes. And I saw he had a hard time, which only encouraged me.

"Elisabeth..."

"Yes?"

He moved his head and our cheeks touched. I felt so warm from the inside out.

"Stop saying things like this."

"Why?"

"Because I might not be able to stop myself."

"Is that a bad thing, my lord?" I mused playfully.

"It is." He sighed. "My lady, I want that day to be really special."

 _Really special._ That made me think. What would make it really special? I furrowed my brows.

"I'll check the chicken", he said then and pulled away, his face stoic.

I let him. I felt slightly embarrassed, but it was gone once we were in his bed again. He picked up the book he usually read out from and looked at me.

"Your turn, tonight", he smiled as he handed me the book.

"Oh no, I'm not reading out well..."

"Please", he kissed my cheek. "I love to hear your voice, just as you like to hear mine."

I blushed and sighed, agreeing. It took me a few minutes for my voice to fall into a natural rythm, but then there was no problem to bring the story to life as I snuggled to him. His fingers gently stroked my shoulder as he listened to me — until he fell asleep. I knew he didn't hear me anymore when his leg twitched. So I put the book down and switched off the light.

" _Special day_ ", I mumbled, still wondering what did he mean.

 

The next week I tried to contain myself, with surprising success. Especially because my glasses needed time, they’d be done this week – guess who picked out the frame. Not me, I assure you –, so I still had my confidence about myself. One morning he sent me to fetch coffee for both of us, so I walked down almost absentmindedly to the—

 _Wait, wait, **wait**._ What the frick frack was going on?

I stared at the tables in the restaurant. The small, red paper hearts struck me like a lightning. I completely froze and I forgot why I even was down there.

**_Is it Valentine's day??? And I totally forgot???_ **

"Oh no!" I whined as I picked up a paper heart.

The workers here probably made them. There were messages written on the small hearts, like 'Be my Valentine', 'Let's have dinner', 'You stole my heart'...

"Oh no!!" I whined again.

For some reason I was completely sure Mycroft knew exactly what day was it and why did 'ordinary people' celebrate it. _The day of the lovers._ My face became as red as the paper heart which I dropped back on the table.

"Oh no, _no_ , **no** ", I laughed to myself, now.

Let's be honest for a moment, there was **no way** Mycroft **_knew and cared_** what day this was. There was probably **_no way_** Mycroft even **thought** of 'celebrating' it. I just couldn't imagine him buying me flowers and trinkets, take me out for a dinner, and—

**_Wait, wait, wait!! SPECIAL DAY!_ **

"Oh nooo!"

I hid my face in my right hand. _Fine. **Fine!** Okay. _ What if he meant it today? Then it'd... it'd be awesome. Yeah. I'm fine with it. I wasn't nervous at all. Nooo, I wasn't! I didn't go pale from scarlet in a second at the thought. _Fine._ So be it. I walked to the cafeteria and asked for our beverages.

No way Mycroft would celebrate Valentine's Day. _God, please, just **don't** celebrate it. _ The only reason it'd bother me was that I didn't even think of giving him anything. It'd be so embarrassing if he prepared anything for me.

But no. He wasn't that type. He wasn't fond of sentiment! He probably didn't care about this.

I went back in his office, a little bit more calm, now. I smiled at him as I put his coffee on his table.

"Thank you", he said as he sipped his drink. "Would you continue working with the e-mails?"

"Of course." I nodded, happy. No gifts. No comments. Nothing! I was right. He didn't care about this stupid day. Thank God! "Have a nice day, Mycroft."

"Have a nice day, Elisabeth", he smiled up at me.

I turned and left with my latte. I closed his door and walked up to my desk; I was paying attention to my phone in my right as I sipped my latte and dropped myself on my seat. Then — I completely froze.

I spotted the red roses first. The bouquet was **_huge_**. I couldn't even count how many were there. They were in a beautiful porcelain vase. I checked the card with shaking fingers.

_Dinner tonight? — MH_

_" **Don't!** " _I breathed in disbelief!

My senses ran wild. The roses smelled amazing. And **_then!_** I suddenly became very well aware of the fact Mycroft could watch me through the security cameras! I hid my face in my hands.

Alright. It's fine. It's just... _roses._ And a dinner reservation. I can deal with that! I was glad he didn't get carried away. The roses would eventually welt and a dinner would live with us in our memories. _And!_ Either of them were too expensive! He didn't make me feel embarrassed. With a smile, I lowered my hands and glanced at my keyboard.

The smile froze on my face.

There was a small box on my keyboard, wrapped in expensive looking silver paper. I didn't realise I was chewing my lower lip as I reached for it and started to carefully remove the paper. When I was done with that, I found a luxurious gift box and my stomach clenched at the sight of the company's name.

“Oh holy _fucking sh—_ ”

_Diamonds Factory!_

**_!DIAMONDS! _ **

**_MOTHER. FUCKING. DIAMONDS!_ **

I lost my cool. Or rather, lost my shit. **_I’ll kill him._** I finally opened the box and prepared myself for the complete shock. And I was not exaggerating. There was a bracelet inside – one which was way too feminine for my taste and way too fucking **EXPENSIVE** TO **WEAR** TO— **TO ANYWHERE!!**

So, as it turned out, I was wrong. Mycroft knew what this day was. And he actually bought me flowers, a trinket – with goddamn **DIAMONDS!!** – and he wanted to have dinner tonight. With me.

“I’ll **_kill_** him”, I mumbled to myself as I picked up the bracelet.

It was 8 inch long and the chains looked like hearts. One half of the hearts had diamonds in them. I put the bracelet back in the box and hid my face in my hands again.

I stayed like that for what felt like an eternity.

Then I lowered my hands and put the box with the bracelet in it away in my bag, then got to my feet and went out in the restroom. As I wasn’t sure how should I react to these things, I completely ran out of ideas how to respond to this. I got my personal phone in my hand and browsed through the names after I sat on the closed toilet. I didn't have many names in my phone. I stopped at one of them. And pressed the call button.

“Elisabeth, I was wondering when I’d hear from you again. Strange that I receive a call from you on this day. Tell me, did my brother dear do something which you did not anticipate at all?” Sherlock’s voice was rolling in my ear like a huge wave of information and it drowned me. I groaned. **HE KNEW!** Sherlock **_knew_** Mycroft would do something _today!_ How? When?? They hadn’t seen each other since… _since…_ “Ah yes, from your voice I already know he did. Oh, that’s very nice of him, isn’t it?”

“Diamonds!!!” I whispered and Sherlock chuckled.

“From what I gathered it’s worth is around £2,000. I’d make sure I’m not leaving it lying around somewhere.”

**ALMOST TWO THOUSAND POUNDS!!!**

„What do I do??” I whined and I could _hear_ he rolled his eyes.

„Since he always bothers me with thanking him the things he’s done for me, I’d say a small _’thank you’_ should suffice.”

No, I was sure a simple little thank you would NOT suffice at all.

“Just do what I say and don’t panic. Smile. Show him you’re happy.”

“But… but I totally forgot about this day and I thought he wouldn’t…”

“He’s breaking many habits because of you. Do not make him feel like it’s a bad thing.”

“I didn’t… I can’t give him anything in return.”

“You don’t have to give him anything.”

“But Sherlock—”

“Trust me when I say the fact you’re with him is enough of a gift for him.”

“But I…”

“Trust me.”

Strange. Mycroft used to say things like ‘trust me’ to me.

“Okay”, I sighed, defeated, because I knew I couldn’t do anything else anyway. “Thank you, Sherlock.”

“You’re welcome. And oh, one more thing. Wear it.”

“What?”

“Put it on.”

“Why?”

“It’ll make him feel better about himself.”

“About himself? Why? Is he not— I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand a lot of things, but listen to me. Just wear it. Appreciate it. Be proud of it.”

And with that, he hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had fun writing this chapter. ;) I hope it made you laugh at some points because I couldn't stop giggling when she realised what was in that box. XD [Check it out here!](https://www.diamondsfactory.co.uk/design/pave-setting-round-diamond-designer-bracelet-clbr2901)


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “There’re a lot of things I do for you just because I love you.”

I fished out the box with a sigh and opened it once more. Even in this place it looked so shiny, so beautiful I wanted to cry. With a sigh, I put it around my wrist and locked it. It fit perfectly on my left wrist.

Why did he have to do this? Why must he buy so expensive things for me? He should've known I didn't care about his money and I didn't care if he never gave me anything, so just why?

With a sigh, I got to my feet and smoothened my attire before I walked out of the restroom. The bracelet wasn't heavy at all, but with each movement it made sure to remind me it was there. I slightly furrowed my brows. I never even wore jewellery before. I could think of a few fitting gifts for me, but jewellery wasn't amoung them. _Ah well._ It was totally his choice. I put my bag on my chair and I walked back to Mycroft's door. God I was so nervous all of sudden. And I couldn't give him anything, now! How embarrassing. When I knocked, he granted me entry and he was alone, his laptop in front of him of course. He glanced up innocently. I hid my hands behind my back — knowing well he usually spied after me through the cameras, the fact I was wearing the bracelet probably was no news for him.

**_Damn it, Mycroft._ **

"Yes, Elisabeth?"

I examined his features. Suddenly, I became aware of the fact that he was nervous as well. Did he think I'd be upset? I'll give him that I was. At first.

I walked up to his desk and sat on the chair in front of it, bringing my hands in my lap. Even if he did spy after me through the camera, my left wrist must've stayed hidden, because his eyes darted immediately at the bracelet. A moment later he looked back in my eyes.

"Yes?" He asked again.

It seemed my silence made him even more nervous. He probably had no idea how I'd react. Then I smiled. It was impossible to be upset at him after what Sherlock told me.

_He’s breaking many habits because of you. Do not make him feel like it’s a bad thing._

"I'm very surprised that you went through all the trouble to give those gifts for me... on Valentine's day."

Mycroft leaned back and arched a brow. He didn't say anything just observed me. I leaned back in my chair as well.

"Though", I continued, “it’s not really fair.”

“Not fair?”

“I can’t give you anything in return.”

I watched how his features smoothened out, how his lips were pulled in a smile. I could feel he was relieved.

“If you accompany me tonight in that exquisite restaurant, that’ll be enough of a compensation for me.”

I just _knew_ he’d say this. I shook my head with a smile.

“You’re unbelievable, you know?”

“Why?”

“You say you’re not overly fond of surprises… and you’re full of surprises yourself.”

He looked at the bracelet again, then back at my face.

“So, then, have I made you happy with my gifts?”

The thought of him not being certain about it rushed through my mind.

“Of course you’ve made me happy”, I nodded, still smiling. “Thank you so much.”

He tried to make sure he hid his feelings but I still saw more relief washed over him.

“You’re welcome.”

“I should go back to my work”, I stood up, but instead of walking for the door, I walked next to him. He glanced up at me, uncertain. I slipped a hand on his shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You’re the best, Mycroft. I love you.”

It was very different from the first time when I said it. I was angry back then and desperate and I just wanted to make sure my words bothered him enough so I’d be able to see behind his ice mask. I wasn’t sure if I didn’t tease him back then, he would’ve even kissed me the first time. But now, this was different. He could feel from my kiss, from my voice, from my touch that I meant every word. And now I was filled with different emotions. Everything seemed to shift as I took it into consideration how I would’ve reacted if Sherlock never warned me. Maybe this was why Mycroft was so nervous about my reaction, because I’ve been arguing with him about everything, all the damned time. But he knew now, he felt this change, too. He closed his eyes, I saw. Maybe he didn’t even believe it until now… but now, hopefully, he finally realised he didn’t need to surprise me with such things.

He conquered me completely long before today morning.

It was actually funny to see how my actions and words made him react. How he always tried to act to be true to his Iceman nickname and how he tried to make me believe he felt nothing and here – when he looked up at me next, his pupils dilated and he visibly was searching for words. I found it funny; he always knew what to say and when, but it seemed I always stirred something up in him which prevented him to find the perfect phrases. It was a little scary to know how I could make him feel. Because in certain circumstances, those feelings he had for me could be the weapon against him.

I tried not to think about that. After all, Sherrinford was gone, we were safe. Nobody wanted to cause us any harm.

_~~Oh how wrong I was.~~ _

“I love you, too”, he whispered back.

His tone was a bit rough and he furrowed his brows as if he didn’t even believe what he said a second ago. His body language told me he was frozen in that position he was now in and his own words made his brain freeze as well. I realised what he felt now confused him. I slipped my hand to the back of his head and gently run my fingers in his hair there. Mycroft closed his eyes and pulled his shoulders up slightly. I knew he loved this, and I loved to see his reactions to it.

“Good.” I teased. “Because you’re not escaping me for a real long time.”

Finally, Mycroft regained his attitude. He rolled his eyes and quietly snorted.

“Like I want to.”

I leaned down and kissed him and he kissed back, then I left him to his work as I left his office. As I sat down at my own computer, I glanced at the bracelet and smiled to myself.

“Diamonds, pfft”, I sighed and continued to work.

 

I was so tired that evening.

We sat in the car and he was talking to someone on his phone, but I didn’t listen to what he was saying as I was checking my personal phone’s messages. I furrowed my brows as I checked them, because I’ve had texts from three unknown numbers. They seemed they were connected, because all of them had a strange feeling to them, they were disturbing. All three seemed to be some sort of poems. I studied about cryptic messages ages ago, and I noticed what was wrong with them immediately.

 

_Silence, silence,_

_Here I come,_

_Enemy, you ascended to the_

_Rotten throne._

_Millions were_

_Agitated_

_Great news were_

_Painlessly muted by the_

_Iceman and his_

_Entrusted huntress._

_Look at me now,_

_Only I can reign!_

_Call Sherlock and let him_

_Know right now._

 

The first letters of the first and the last message gave the word **SHERLOCK**. The second gave **MAGPIE**. I quit the messages and stared out of the window. I’ve had no idea what was this about, but the message was clear enough for me. Especially with the word ‘Iceman’ in it… and ‘his entrusted huntress’… **oh no.** Whoever this was, knew about my connection to both Sherlock and Mycroft and they striked at the weakest link, **me.** _Magpie… only I can reign…_

“Elisabeth, are you alright?”

Mycroft’s voice immediately emptied my head. I looked at him and got a hold of his right hand next to my left.

“Of course.”

“You went slightly pale.”

“I guess I’m just really hungry”, I shrugged and decided I would **NOT** think about these messages tonight.

“Good, this restaurant has amazingly delicious food. I’m sure you’ll appreciate it.”

“Of course I will.”

He examined my face and I tried to make sure I took care of my expression so he wouldn’t read out anything from me. It seemed I could convince him I was really just hungry.

“No arguments about eating, this time?” He teased.

“Nope.”

“How come?”

“I want tonight to be perfect.”

My answer got under his skin in a second.

“It’ll be perfect for me if you’re spending it with me, you know.”

I snuggled closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder.

“Good.”

We stayed in silence. I closed my eyes when I felt he rested his head on the top of mine.

“Why take me to a restaurant, though?” I asked then with furrowed brows. “I thought we’ve had enough food for tonight, as well.”

“Hmmm… maybe because I remembered how angry you were I went to a restaurant with Lady Smallwood instead of you?” He questioned and I blushed. I was drunk when that happened. It was so embarrassing to remember it. “And the last time we talked about why I was mean with you, you mentioned I could’ve just asked you to have a dinner with me. So I figured you like to be taken to restaurants for an ideal date.”

“Amoung other things”, I giggled.

“Other things?” Mycroft echoed.

“Yes.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Maybe we could go to a cinema and watch a movie together.”

Mycroft groaned. I knew why. He barely could wait to arrive home and be in silence. People and their buzzing seemed to tire him out more than anything else. A cinema wasn’t a place of entertainment for him, it probably was some sort of torture.

“If you wish.”

I opened my eyes, shocked. _What?_ Did he just agree to it just because I told him I’d like to go? _Oh boy. He started to become a sweetheart._

“We don’t have to. Going to a restaurant is very good for me for a while.”

Mycroft didn’t reply. When he next spoke a couple of seconds later, his voice sounded uncertain.

“I’m never entirely certain if I’m doing things right or not.”

His words confused me. I pulled away to look at his face, but of course, as always, he hid his feelings from me. I should tell him to knock this off, but I guessed it’s a habit he didn’t even notice he was doing all the time.

“You’re doing everything perfectly”, I assured him.

“But you’re giving me so many mixed signals.”

I stared, then blinked like an owl. _Mixed signals?_

“When did I ever give you mixed signals?”

“You argue with me a lot.”

“Because you can’t understand things which are perfectly normal for ordinary people.”

“Like… that glasses are a bad thing?”

_This again??_

“Yes. For example.”

“But it’s not a bad thing. And after the argument, you came in and apologised. It’s confusing, you’re not making sense.”

I rolled my eyes.

“No, I don’t. But sometimes you don’t make sense either.”

“Like when?”

“How can you even think glasses are okay?”

“I know you need it to see well. Therefore, I could care less if wearing glasses is judged or not within our society, I only look at the fact that you need it to protect and correct your eyesight. It is needed to keep you healthy. Just like the monthly check ups you so like to forget, like they don’t even exist.”

I groaned, this time. **_Damnit._**

“I don’t need a monthly check up, I’m perfectly fine.”

“You know just as well as I do that your physical condition is still delicate. We need to make sure your system didn’t suffer more damage than the ones we’ve dealt with.”

“Mycroft…”

“You will not talk me out of it.”

“Fine! I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow to have those check ups.”

He opened his mouth – he probably thought I’d continue arguing – then his voice disappeared in his throat. _Finally! An identifiable feeling! **Shock!**_

“Why do you look so surprised?” I cocked a brow just when our car stopped before the restaurant.

“Because I didn’t anticipate this answer.”

I grinned at him before I let his hand go.

“There’re a lot of things I do for you just because I love you.” I opened the door on my side after I kissed the tip of his nose. “And don’t you forget that!”

How did he put it? Amazingly delicious food. They had that sort of thing! Damn, the last time I’ve had steak with veggies was ages ago. I loved everything about the place and the food they made. We’ve had a quiet little corner to ourselves and our waitress didn’t bother us all the time. But we didn’t really talk. There was something in the air between us, something that wasn’t there before. And it just grew and grew. Even though I couldn’t stop thinking about what day it was today and what he told me before about… about… **_oh damn,_** I should stop behaving like a virgin. Because I wasn’t one a long time ago. And yet, if I thought of the possibility of getting in the bed with Mycroft in a totally different sense, I just couldn’t help myself. And each time my eyes wandered on my new bracelet, I couldn’t help but think I still needed to… compensate.

“You’re doing it again”, Mycroft noted and I looked in his eyes.

He looked so amused. Something was entertaining him way too much and it made me fidgety to know he was probably watching my expression and that was what entertained him.

“Doing what?” I asked innocently as I sipped my red wine.

“You’re so deep in thought that everything is written on your face. Why are you so nervous, Elisabeth?”

I closed my eyes for a moment. Why couldn’t he stop analising me for one damned hour? I’ll totally blindfold him once. For an entire day.

“I’m not nervous.”

“I see you are.”

“Then maybe you need glasses as well.”

He laughed. And that felt so good. I could make him laugh like this, this… this freely, this carelessly.

“I know you more than you’d think, dear.”

I bit my lip at how he called me and blushed.

“If you’re continuing making me feel like this, I’ll need more wine.”

“Oh Elisabeth, I think you’ve had enough of that already.”

I cocked a brow.

“Are you trying to tell me now what to do when I can decide on my own?”

“Not at all. I’m just making sure you won’t get a headache tomorrow.”

I rolled my eyes at that, because I remembered the last time he bugged me for getting a headache just because I drank too much.

“How can you calculate how much alcohol can I take?”

He thought for a moment.

“Considering the amount of food you ate and the drinks you’ve had earlier today, minus the latte, I’d say two big glasses of water before bed would help your situation with the alcohol.”

“How… I mean why… when… damn…”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed, deeply.

“Pardon?” He asked as he tilted his head.

“How can you even know how much water I’ve had? And why would you pay attention to that? When did you even see how much I’ve been drinking?”

He furrowed his brows for a moment.

“I’m always watching you.”

“Okay… that’s… still a bit creepy.”

Mycroft sighed and finished his food as he picked up his own glass of wine.

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me **_this much._** ”

He blinked at me.

“You have absolutely no idea how much I want to keep you safe from harm.”

“Mycroft, a headache from drinking alcohol isn’t that bad.”

“I absolutely **hate** to see you in pain. **_Any_** _pain._ ”

At this answer, I went silent. Then tears flooded my eyes. _This can’t be._ I might be the sentimental, emotional counterpart I pretended to be all the time, but he was way beyond me. While I still thought it was slightly creepy he knew about everything I did, it was actually very good to know that he really loved me so endlessly that he took the pains of paying attention to me. All the time. Without pause.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked quietly and I shook my head.

“No, I… I just never was this important to anyone before. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry”, he smiled gently. “I should apologise for overstepping the boundaries without you knowing.”

I hiccuped with a laugh-cry.

On the way home we sat in silence. I rested my head on his shoulder again and held his hand like before. Then – I didn’t remember when did we arrive at his house. When I opened my eyes the next time, I was hugging the blanket to myself and his alarm went off. I groaned. When I moved, I felt my skirt and blouse still was on me. I sat up and looked down on myself in horror. I couldn’t possibly fall asleep in the car, right? My shoes were right next to the bed, aligned perfectly next to each other. I hid my face in my hands. Mycroft moved behind me to dismiss his alarm as I sunk in my embarrassment.

I fell asleep and he brought me up in his bed… and he never used the situation to his advantage. He made sure I was safe and taken care of.

_As always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter came as fast as a runaway train, but I can't help myself! I love these two. <3  
> How did you like the messages? >:)


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „I’m telling you again, Elisabeth, that _**I do** know_ when you’re lying to me.”

We were ready to go home from work. All day, I've been trying to keep myself away from him out of embarrassment; I was a bit more quiet and I observed him more to try and realise why didn't he want to... ah well. I couldn't find any good reasons and my confidence suffered because of it. My glasses also were delivered to me in the morning and I had to wear them. All the time. Nonstop.

Honestly? I hated it.

But when I was in his company I felt he couldn't stop staring at me. I kept thinking he thought I was ugly, but I said nothing about it.

Now that we were about to leave the office and I put away my things, I felt his gaze on me again. I looked up – took him by surprise – and cocked a brow.

"What?" I mumbled.

"Hmm?" He asked back with a soft smile.

"You've been staring all day. What is it? Is my make up smeared?"

I knew it wasn't and he knew I knew it wasn't, but his smile stretched nevertheless.

"Oh, no. I just find you incredibly gorgeous in your new glasses."

"Nah, stop it", I waved, trying to forget how his words made me blush at the speed of light.

"I'm serious", I heard the sincerity and his smile in his voice as I looked back down on my desk to continue packing. "I knew it'd look good on you, of course."

"Well since you chose the frame, I expected as much", I rolled my eyes as I put my coat on. I walked next to him with my bag in my hand. "Shall we go?"

Mycroft looked down on me, still with the smile. His pupils were so wide I could see my reflection in his eyes.

"Of course." His lips twitched. "You temptress."

I blushed anew.

" **Stop it** ", I gasped as we walked for the lift.

"Why, do I bother you?"

After what happened – or rather, **_didn't_** happen!! –, he made me feel even worse.

"Yes", I grumpily pushed the button.

"You shouldn't feel like this." He wondered and innocently sized up the metal door of the lift. "Honestly, I think you've became even more... irresistible."

 _Even more,_ he said. When we got in the lift, I pushed the button again. Angrily. I wasn't ’irresistible’ to him.

"We both know you don't look at me that way, so please just stop saying things like this", I looked at my nails and thought I should maybe polish them.

"Oh, dear", Mycroft chuckled. "I'm so glad you can't see in my head."

I looked up at him, challenging.

"Why, what would I see?"

He leaned closer to me, but he was still looking at the lift's door, this time, from inside of it.

"Yourself." At his quiet reply, I rolled my eyes and wanted to say something, but he continued, even quieter. "Wearing only these glasses."

I wasn't sure I felt so flattered in my entire life before. **Wow!** I blushed scarlet and I had trouble finding my voice. Okay, this answer... I did **NOT** anticipate at all. Wearing only my glasses... did he really think of me that way? Then why didn't he...

I furrowed my brows as we left the lift and walked for the entrance together. It was raining outside. Mycroft opened his umbrella for the both of us — then he received a text, which he immediately checked.

"Let's go back", he told me, "I have to pick up a file from my office... Sherlock needs it."

"You go back in", I told him, thinking my face needed the cold air to calm itself. "I'll wait here."

"Alright", he nodded, "take my umbrella, then."

"Thank you", I accepted it.

I took it from him and he hurried back. I watched him walk right back to the lift while I kept thinking. I was right. I needed the cold air. I looked at his ride; his driver and a guard stood nearby, watching me. I couldn't stop blushing when their eyes met mine.

_Wearing only these glasses._

Was what he told me really the truth? Did he find me sexy like this, now? I had to admit, just because I didn't like it, he could've been right that it looked good on me. After all, why would he lie? A man bypassed me and he coughed. I furrowed my brows.

Was this what he was thinking about all day? Me, only in my glasses?

Mycroft came back about fifteen minutes later, and I admit, I was cold. He got a hold of his umbrella – which, I realised, was a bit heavier than a normal umbrella for obvious reasons –, and we walked to the car then sat in quickly. It was raining hard. By the time we arrived to his ~~manor~~ house, the rain slightly changed. There were a few snowflakes in it.

" _Wonderful_ ", I heard Phil's groan. "Snow..."

I shuddered. The last time I saw snow was in… **Moscow.** That night, when Mycroft saved me. I didn't realise I was chewing on my lower lip. The memory made me shudder. We quickly went in his house and I kept thinking with furrowed brows as I got my jacket off. Then I thought I’d start buying myself some very warm clothes. I grinned at the thought.

„What is it?” He inquired and I cocked a brow, looking up at him.

„I’d like to go shopping.”

Mycroft raised a brow as well.

„Now?”

I shrugged.

„Or tomorrow.”

„Alright.”

I wondered if he knew what did he agree to. He probably had no idea what it’s like to go shopping with a woman. Poor Mycroft. This thought entertained me very much and even though he asked, I didn’t say why.

But nothing helped the coldness of my feet and hands.

When I finally took off my glasses and put it on the nightstand next to the book he usually read out from, I could snuggle to him in his bed I found out a few minutes later I still couldn’t get warm enough. He didn’t comment on it but I saw his inquisitive glance on my face when I gently – but undoubtedly – pressed my cold feet to his.

„You’re so hot”, I mumbled and he laughed quietly.

„ _Am I?_ ” He was teasing me again. _He’ll be the death of me one day._ „Then let me warm you up.” I let out a quiet purr. Instead of reading out for me, he switched off the lamp, then he wrapped me in his arms. I smiled in the dark, knowing he didn’t see. Once again, I felt like a tiny, little burrito. And a happy one, at that. „I’ve been thinking…”

„Yes?” I breathed on his neck, my hands on his chest, my entire body pressed to him as close as I could.

„Maybe we could go and visit Sherlock tomorrow.”

„Alright”, I hummed.

There was a quiet noise and I jerked slightly when the door opened. With a quiet meow, four tiny cat feet made their way up on the bed, right where my legs were.

„I think she’s had enough of being alone in your room”, Mycroft noted.

„Being home must be boring for her.”

„Then she’s just as restless as her owner.”

„I’m not restless”, I sighed. „I’m fine with being home… if you’re around me.”

Mycroft didn’t say anything. After a few minutes of silence, I fell asleep.

 

The morning came faster than I thought but the first thing I felt was the incredible throat ache. With a frown I snuggled back to Mycroft who moved out of my reach to switch off his alarm.

„Elisabeth, it’s fine, I’m not going anywhere without you”, he said softly when he felt the way I snaked an arm around his waist.

Mycroft sounded sleepy, and I was, too. But I couldn’t let him know how much my throat ached. I cleared it a bit. Mycroft lied on his back and I snuggled to his side. He embraced me with his arm.

„It seems to me that you’ve warmed up enough”, he gently ran his fingers in my hair. I shivered. „Hm…”

 **Oh no.** Was I too hot? The throat ache and being warm… but I have to go to Sherlock with him! I needed to let him know the poems I’ve got…

„Okay, we need to get up”, Mycroft mumbled beneath me. Thank God, he didn’t find my sudden warmness alarming. He gently moved and I let him go. I sat up as well, next to him, and tried my best not to show I felt cold again. „We could drop the file at Baker Street before we go to work.”

I nodded in agreement and got to my feet. I hurried to my room and changed, brushed my teeth and made sure I looked healthy – but my throat I checked in the mirror was way too red. **Shit.** _Why?_ Maybe… yesterday, while I was waiting for him, I caught a cold?

I ate my croissant in silence and the suspicious looks he shot me were unnerving. He started to realise what I tried to hide from him. Damnit! Why was he so clever?

„How are you feeling?” He asked and I cleared my throat.

„I’m fine.”

My eyes widened slightly and he seemed surprised, too. Because my voice was hoarse and deeper than usual.

„Fine?” He echoed.

_Oh no, think of something, quickly!_

„Yeah, it’s just… my voice is still asleep”, I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

Mycroft finished his own croissant.

„You’ve put on an additional layer of clothing.”

**_God fucking damnit._ **

„It was snowing yesterday, so I thought it might be needed.”

He leaned back in his seat and I knew what went through his head. I could see the verdict hung above my head like a dark cloud. He’ll make me stay. All day. Alone. And I panicked. Because I didn’t want to be away from him. I couldn’t bear the thought! He can’t leave me, he shouldn’t, but… _wait!_ If he sent over Sherlock to ’babysit’ me like the last time, then maybe… maybe I could talk to Sherlock about those poems without him knowing. And why I wanted him **_not_** _to know_ about it? Because if I gave him the information, he’d never tell me anything about it just to avoid stressing me out. I knew. I felt. And I really wanted to know who was threatening me. Us.

„I’m telling you again, Elisabeth, that _I **do** know_ when you’re lying to me.”

His quiet words made me shiver.

„I’m fine”, I whined.

Mycroft sighed.

„You can’t come to work if you’re ill.”

I pouted.

„Then I’m doomed to stay home alone?”

Finally, Mycroft smiled.

„I could stay home with you and we could ask Sherlock to come over for the file he so urgently needs.”

 _Aw, **shit**._ How could I show Sherlock the poems without Mycroft knowing, if he was in the same room as us? _Think, **think!**_

„Alright”, I nodded. „That sounds good.”

„Okay, then I’ll make some calls now. You go back in the bed.”

I sighed and walked out the kitchen, then ran up to my room and I quickly scribbled down the poems on a piece of paper. I also warned Sherlock on the top of the paper that I ask him not to tell Mycroft about these lest he tries to keep back information from me. If we were in danger, I needed to know. And so, I changed back in a black trousers with a shirt and climbed back in his bed, with the paper in my pocket. Mycroft joined me, but he didn’t get under the duvet. We spent time quietly with each other.

An hour later the first surprise arrived. A doctor. I grimaced when I realised why: he wanted to examine me. With a pouty face again, I let him, to Mycroft’s joy. The verdict was rest, tea and some pills to ease my throat ache. I groaned when Mycroft told me to go back in the bed after the doctor was gone. And he got himself busy with a kettle in the kitchen.

Then the fever started to kick in. I felt dizzy and my throat felt like I half swallowed a cactus. My voice started to fade soon. When Sherlock and John arrived, Mycroft told me to stay in bed, but I refused.

I needed to give the paper to the detective. **I must!** He had to know about these poems.

So when he walked down, I went with him. And when we were in the living room, I sat next to Sherlock. Purposefully. Mycroft furrowed his brows at that. I knew it was suspicious, but I had to.

„I guess she needs a mug of tea”, Sherlock commented. My skin ached. Everything hurt. I wanted to be back in the bed. John passed Sherlock the blanket which was next to him. „Would you bring one for her, brother mine?”

Mycroft sighed and got to his feet. When he was out of view, I quickly slipped the paper in Sherlock’s hand. When he opened his mouth I quickly shook my head, pointing at his pocket to put it away. At least he got the message. The paper was gone out of our sight and it was never spoken of again. When Mycroft came back with the mug, I got to my feet and took it from him, then showed with my hand I’d go back upstairs.

„How are you two, by the way?” I heard John’s voice when I was out of view.

„We’re alright”, Mycroft replied calmly.

„When will be the wedding?” Sherlock taunted and I grinned.

_Wedding. Hah! Like he ever would—_

„What makes you think I told you even if we had one?” Came the dry reply.

I suddenly remembered the time when we pretended we were a married couple. He said back then that he wouldn’t want to have a big party… I furrowed my brows at the memory. Would he really keep it in silence? He really didn’t want to tell Sherlock about it?

John laughed.

„It’s not like they’ll have one, right?” His voice let me know he was holding back another laughter. But since either of the Holmes brothers replied, he ceased sounding so entertained. „What— there’ll—”

„Goodbye, brother mine”, Sherlock said and I heard the main door was opened.

I quickly made my way in Mycroft’s room and hid under his duvet. My heart pounded hard against my chest. What was the answer, then? I was so curious… Mycroft wouldn’t plan something like that out, right? **_Right??_** He wouldn’t just pop me a question like that suddenly? Without talking about it with me… or was I wrong?

„How’s the tea?” Mycroft asked as he walked in the room. I grumbled something. My throat hurt too much to speak. „I put some honey in it, it shall help you with the talking.” I watched him come closer and he sat on the edge of the bed. „You’re so red”, he mumbled and slipped his right hand on my forehead. Thank God I felt his hand was colder than my head, because now he could blame it on the fever, and actually, he really did. „Try to sleep, alright? I’ll be here in the room with you.”

I nodded and hid my face in the pillow, then pulled the duvet up on myself. I barely was visible to him. **_Marriage._** I heard he opened his laptop case and sat in the armchair nearby. I tried to relax.

_The long corridor ended in a door and when I ran to it to open it, I heard a voice. It rang directly from the walls around me._

_„You **UUU** 've been __**VEEERY**_ _naaaaughty_ _, Elisabeth!”_

**_This voice, I know this voice, I’ve heard it before._ ** _Who was it? Who was it??_

_„Oh, **oh!** ” The voice lustfully exclaimed. „She’s **armed!** ” I had a gun in my right hand and I realised I was in the same clothes during the mission before Sherrinford… „Open the door and you’ll see my gifts. Very special, just for you!”_

_I swallowed and opened the door. There was a glass wall in the middle of the room, slicing it in two and on the other side, two chairs. Mycroft sitting on one of them, Sherlock on the other. Both bound. And beaten. Bloody._

_„NOOO!” I screamed._

_Sherrinford approached them with a grin and a gun in his own hand._

**„NOOO!”** I screamed again. I thrashed around. I felt like I was bound as well. „ **No!** **NOOO!** ”

„Elisabeth!” Someone held me down. Someone talked to me. „It’s fine, you just had a bad dream, it was just a dream. A dream, ssh…”

„No!”

I cried and started to shake from head to toe. I realised I was clutching Mycroft’s waistcoat. He held me close and tight, running his hand in my hair over and over again.

„You’re safe. It was just a dream. A nightmare.”

I sobbed and slowly eased my hold around his clothes. Mycroft gently let me back in the bed and brought his hands on my face. He gently stroked the tears off of my cheeks.

„Everything’s alright. I promise.” I closed my eyes and nodded a few times. „I think it’s time for you to take those pills.”

„Who was that…” I coughed in my hand I raised, my voice still very hoarse. „That one… back… in Hill’s house…” Mycroft looked confused. „That voice… when I was down there with the bomb?”

I watched and tried to see from his reactions as much as I could. His pupils dilated. He pressed his lips together. And there was—there was a slight colour leaving his face.

„I don’t know”, he replied quietly.

 _„Liar”_ , I pointed out the obvious.

„Elisabeth, you need to rest now. Your fever is too high. Please take your pills.”

„No… tell me…”

Mycroft hesitated.

„It’s not time for honesty, yet. Not now. Your system needs time, don’t push yourself too much.”

I watched him get a pill in his hand and he offered it to me. With a sigh, I accepted. Then he made me drink. My throat hurt.

„Tell me”, I begged quietly.

„I will”, he promised, „when you get better.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "They do have chemistry."

As much as I wanted to know the truth, I had to admit that Mycroft had a way of tending to people and to avoid questions. Of course, I wasn’t stupid, but I still let him try and persuade me to think about something else. For a while. Because just as I brought up the mysterious man, Mycroft used every weapon at his disposal to make me stop even thinking about it.

The first method was the ’I’ll make a tea first’ method. That’d ensure I’d be left alone for at least twenty minutes and by the time he came back I either was asleep or was browsing on my phone out of boredom and I forgot what I wanted to know.

The second was the ’it’s time to check your temperature’ method. Which resulted in a five minutes long ordeal of me fighting with him because of it, then ending up with the thermometer under my armpit and pouting.

Immediately after that came the ’I’ll bring your pills’ method. This was a quick one. But enough to distract me.

Then there was the ’I’ll read for you instead’, ’I have to cook’ and ’I have to work’ methods. All of them very good to keep me at bay.

The worst still was that even though I remembered what I wanted, I was too ill to keep up with his creativity. I always noticed I’ve been betrayed when it was too late. But I had to give it to him, he was cleverer than me. Of course…

Miraculously, a week spent in bed cured me out of this illness and I was happy to leave for work on the last working day of the week (I promised myself he wouldn’t escape me this weekend). That Friday was very quiet. I've been working and Mycroft was at a meeting — I didn't complain that he was away as I could sip my after lunch latte and message him every few minutes. Really, it felt he was nearer to me than when he was in his office. Probably because he was bored and he started sending the texts.

**This meeting is horrible. — M**

_Don't murder anyone. I like your attire. It'd be a shame if it got bloody. <3_

**Dear, you know just as well as I do that I need only words to murder a person. And I wouldn't get bloody. Ever. — M**

_If it means you'd give the order, then yes, you're right. Though, I'm better than you._

**How so? — M**

_I_ _wouldn't need to touch anyone or say anything to kill them. ;)_

**Now I'm interested. Tell me more. — M**

_Are you sure? You might die. :P_

**I'm willing to take that risk. — M**

With a cheeky grin, I switched to my phone's camera while I pulled my skirt up on my thigh just a bit so the top of my stockings were visible. I snapped a pic.

And sent it to him.

I was thinking why didn't he reply when I heard footsteps coming to my desk. I looked up like nothing happened, placed my latte on my desk and smiled up at the elderly couple.

"Good afternoon, how may I help?" I asked them politely and the woman smiled back.

"Good afternoon. We're here to see Mycroft Holmes. Is he in his office?"

"Unfortunately, no, he's at a meeting. But he'll be back soon."

"Thank you. We'll wait for him, then."

I nodded to them and they sat down on the chairs near my desk. Then my phone buzzed.

**I should probably teach you how should you behave while I'm at a meeting. — M**

I giggled like an idiot.

_You asked for it! (A couple is waiting for you.)_

**And you're making me uncomfortable. (Alright. I'll be back shortly.) — M**

_Why, are your trousers too tight all of sudden? :P_

**...don't. — M**

_I'd help you get them off. <3_

**Oh, Elisabeth. It's one thing I have to fight with myself. But you're making it too difficult sometimes. — M**

_Why are you holding yourself back?_

**Because I know you need time. — M**

_Why, what if I don't?_

**After all that happened, you certainly do. I suspect that certain... circumstances would definitely trigger you. I do not want that to happen. — M**

I wondered for a while. Then hummed. He was right, probably.

_You're too good to me._

**I strive to be the very best, for you. — M**

_But what if I wanted you to be the... bad guy? :P_

**Oh, Elisabeth. Trust me when I say you do not want that. — M**

I shook my head and resumed working with his e-mails. About twenty of them rolled in, so I got them sorted out quickly.

"Excuse me", the old woman spoke to me and I looked up at her with a smile, "for how long you've been working here?"

"It's been a couple of months, ma'am, though I had a little break from work."

Little break. Not a holiday...

"Thought so", she nodded, "you weren't here the last time we visited Mike."

 _Mike? **Mike??**_ I nearly laughed.

"What's your name, dear?" She asked. "I am Mary and this is Rodger."

"I am Elisabeth Lone, nice to meet you."

"Do you like working here?" The man asked.

"Yes, sir. I enjoy my job very much."

"Isn't it boring?"

"No, not at all. Working with Mr Holmes is truly adventurous sometimes."

"Really?"

I smiled wider. _You wouldn't even believe._

"Yes, of course, sir."

They both smiled. I continued working with Mycroft's e-mails and I couldn't stop grinning at how the lady called him. Once I finished the job, the lift's door opened and he returned — and froze for a moment when he saw the elderly couple sitting on the chairs. They stood up and Mycroft quickly walked to his office's door as he started to talk.

"Ah, good afternoon. I'm sorry you had to wait. Please, come in my office."

"It's not a problem, your secretary was good company."

"Was she?" Mycroft flashed a smirk at me when he opened his door for them.

Then they disappeared.

For about thirty minutes, there was silence. And then suddenly — the phone on my desk started ringing. I picked it up.

"Yes, sir, how may I help?"

I've had no idea who they were and they could've heard every word I said, so I made sure to show some respect for Mycroft. I wondered; would he feel awkward if it turned out to some that we were... _dating?_ Ungh that sounded so childish. We shared a damned bed. We weren't dating, we were lovers.

I blushed. **_Lovers._**

"Please Elisabeth, come in my office."

"Right away, sir."

I put the phone down then got up, straightened my attire and went straight for the door. I entered; the couple sat on the two chairs and he sat on his own, of course. I stood near Mycroft's desk with a cocked brow. He looked up at me and sighed.

"So as I've said, I can't go, I'll have another meeting in 10, but Elisabeth surely would love to join you." He half smiled at me.

I looked at the couple, and Mary rolled her eyes.

"But Mike, you promised!"

"I'm sorry, but I truly can't make it today."

"You should've told us, we could've stayed at home", Rodger replied.

"Again, I'm sure Elisabeth would love to go with you. She's good company, as you've told me."

"I'm sorry, go where?" I interrupted finally.

Mycroft leaned back in his seat.

"I've booked tickets to Shakespeare's Hamlet at the Royal Opera House. Sadly, I can not make it due to the meetings I have to attend today. I'm asking you to go there instead of me."

My head was spinning. _Royal Opera House. Hamlet. He can't go. He's asking me._ But why me? I realised I've never been to the Royal Opera House before. I've never even seen an opera! I blinked, confused, and looked at the couple who glanced at me. Honestly, they were cute. But I wondered why Mycroft would go there with them. Maybe they were important politicians? Would I represent him outside of work? Ugh, the responsibility! I glanced back at Mycroft. His eyes were positively begging me.

"Alright, of course, sir. Am I allowed to leave earlier? To go... home. To change."

We knew what that meant. I'd need to go in his house. To have a shower, dress up nicely and all. His lips twitched. From that, I just knew he appreciated I didn't hint at the fact I lived with him. _Secret it is, then._

"Of course, Elisabeth. I already have a car outside to take you home so you can prepare yourself. Meet Mary and Rodger at the entrance at 6pm."

I nodded.

"Thank you so much, dear", Mary smiled up at me, "I'm sure it'll be fun."

"Of course it will be, ma'am." I saw from the corner of my eyes that Mycroft looked both way too relieved and also very pleased. I wondered why. "See you both later, then."

I left the office and walked to my desk when I heard Mycroft's office door close. I glanced back and saw he walked to me. I turned to him and smiled — I was about to ask something when his lips literally crashed against mine. He grabbed my waist and pulled me close firmly as I returned the kiss and moaned in his lips. Well, honestly, I loved my reward. I didn't think I deserved it, though.

"Elisabeth", he whispered when he pulled a little away. His thumbs stroked my cheeks. "I love you so, **_so_** much."

I laughed a little. He made me feel dizzy.

"I love you too", I pecked his lips, "but I have to hurry. I have an important task to fulfill."

"That, you do", he smirked, "I trust you won't disappoint."

I shook my head with a laugh and quickly put my things away, then got my jacket on.

"Text me", he suddenly mumbled and I looked at him.

"When?"

He half smiled.

"Anytime. I'll answer."

I giggled cheekily.

"Good boy."

I pecked his lips then started to walk away, but he pulled me back by my arm and kissed me deeply again.

"Thank you", he whispered on my lips.

"Anything, for you", I whispered back.

Mycroft finally let me go, then cleared his throat and walked back to his office's door. I walked to the lift and looked back at him — he kept his eyes on me —, then I smiled and waved him goodbye.

Phil took me home. I quickly had a shower, ate something while I was still in two towels (one around my body, another around my hair — my glasses didn't want to stay on my face with the latter), thinking I'd probably cause a heart attack to Mycroft if he saw me like this. When I was done I went back in my room and brushed my teeth, then checked out my wardrobe. I was thinking about putting on my long, black satin dress. I'd look amazing. With a grin, I thought maybe next time we're ever in a restaurant, I should put on something like this, just to make him fidget. I didn't need my bra, so that stayed in the wardrobe and I found my black high heels as well. As a matter of fact, I didn't remember bringing my attire and shoes back from Hill's place. I momentarily froze. It suddenly occured to me that I left this dress in Andrew's office.

"Oh, Mycroft", I sighed.

He didn't simply bring it back. He also made sure it was cleaned. I didn't think of it when I saw it here, the first time, but now it hit me.

I smiled and continued applying my makeup. I needed to apply the tattoo concealer generously on some parts of my body where the dress didn't cover me. Sherrinford's marks faded with time; but I still could notice the marks of his teeth in my skin on my shoulder. Though, I wasn't as thin as a month ago when Mycroft found me; after all, I tried to gain back my weight so I could start working out again.

I quickly combed through my hair then decided I'd leave it down like this when my phone started to ring. I walked back in my room and picked it up. A new text, from him, of course.

**I e-mailed you the tickets. — M**

I checked the e-mail and of course, he really did send them to me. I frowned slightly. There were three tickets and I saw he booked them two weeks ago. For how long he's been planning this? I didn't know a thing about it until today.

_Why didn't you tell me anything about it?_

I tried not to sound hurt, but really, was he planning to leave me alone for a night for two weeks?

**I wanted it to be a surprise. I wished to attend, too, but, because of certain circumstances, I can not make it. Honest. — M**

I smiled at his last word. Okay... alright. I believed him, for now.

**Also, check under your pillow. Until today afternoon, I thought I could give it to you personally, but alas, I can not. P. S.: Don't be upset. — M**

I sighed **(I'll kill him)** and walked in his room and checked under my pillow. I touched a box. When I pulled it out, I saw the same company's name on it like on my bracelet's box. I rolled my eyes and texted him.

_Mycroft!!_

**Dear, it'll look perfect with your black satin dress. — M**

**_Wha-?!_** He **_KNEW_** I'd put on my black dress?? _How? **When???**_

I opened the box and realised, with another sigh, that indeed he must've thought the amount of diamonds weren't enough on me already. But, at least, there was only one of it now in the heart-shaped pendant.

I put it on then made a selfie with a small smile and sent it to him with a text.

_Thank you so much, Mycroft. I love it. <3_

Why did he think he needed to give me expensive gifts? Or was this how he tried to express what he usually couldn't, with words? I wondered. Why did Sherlock say Mycroft feels better about himself this way?

**Breathtaking. You're the most beautiful Lady I've ever met. — M**

I giggled. And I blushed.

_I have to go, talk to you later. Be good and don't kill anyone during the meeting._

**I'll try my best. Have fun, Elisabeth. — M**

Fortunately, I arrived sooner than Mary and Rodger. They were in a really good mood and we went in the building together. Mary quickly made sure I was near her during the walk. She started to bomb me with various questions about my job and I replied the best I could without revealing anything about me being an agent and about my real relationship to Mycroft. Which was hard. She seemed most inquisitive about the latter.

"But he's not that mean, is he?" She asked once more and I laughed, shaking my head.

"No, not at all. He's the best boss I've ever had."

This would've been a lie a few monts ago, but I saw she noticed I was genuine about it now.

"So, do you like him?"

I blinked, a bit surprised. How to answer this question without seeming...

"Yes, I like him. He's a great man."

At my reply, her face lit up. I started wondering again why was that. How she reacted didn't make sense to me. If she was a businesswoman or politician, why would she care if I liked Mycroft? Why would she seem pleased if I said he was a great man?

"I've heard he's single", she winked at me.

Okay. More to the confusion.

" _Maaary_ ", Rodger sighed and I smiled.

"I don't think he'd, ah, look at me like that, ma'am. I am his secretary", I cocked a brow at her and she shrugged.

"Who cares about who works what? If there's chemistry..."

"Mary!" Rodger playfully warned her again.

"What? They do have chemistry. Did you see how he looked at her back in the office?"

I blushed and looked around in the hall to mask it. Shit. It's one thing that being in love with him was visible on me. But if it's visible that he feels the same, then...

"Maybe he really just wanted to skip the opera", Rodger waved.

We reached the room the Hamlet would be played and we calmly searched for and found our seats. Mary sat me next to her, on her other side, Rodger sat. I didn't mind.

"That wouldn't be out of character, either", Mary admitted and I laughed because I agreed with her.

Then the play begun. I remembered Hamlet vaguely from my school's literature class, but I remembered also that I liked it. Though, around the half of the play, I noticed something was off. I felt like I was being watched. I tried to shake it off, but the sinister feeling just grew and grew. Could it be some of Mycroft's guards? Maybe. Though, they never made me feel like this. My skills as an agent kicked in and I started to casually scan the place.

During the longer mid-break, Mary and Rodger talked about the scenes and how much they liked this version. I figured they watched a lot of plays in theatres and operas. I wisely kept to myself and continued scanning the area and the people, but I didn't see anything suspicious. I got my phone out of my small black handbag and checked the screen. Of course, I've had a new message.

**How's the play? — M**

_It's very good. Shame you couldn't come._

He replied almost immediately. The meeting must've been boring.

**Maybe next time. How are you feeling? — M**

I sighed. Maybe I should tell him how I felt right now, that I felt like someone was watching me, but I decided against it. What if he immediately would take me home? Or his men would swarm this place? Better not. He'd need to explain a lot of things to people here.

_Next time? I thought you disliked these... ordinary things. I'm alright. How are you?_

**Yes... I'm afraid there'll be a next time. They like to go to such places. Also, I miss you. — M**

I arched a brow. He had to go with them? Why? Who were they that Mycroft had to force himself to go to such places he disliked?

_I miss you too. But I'll see you soon._

**Not soon enough. But definitely. Enjoy the second half, dear. — M**

I smiled and got my head out of my phone, then looked up at the elderly couple; they still were talking. Who were they? It'd be embarrassing if I asked their family name now, but maybe from that, I could go somewhere.

"Dear, we've been thinking..." Mary glanced at my bracelet and my pendant, then looked up in my eyes again. "We've been wondering if you, you know... had a boyfriend?"

I smiled. They were too cute.

"No, I'm single."

"Oh what a delight!"

She put her hand on her heart and Rodger groaned.

"Mary!!"

"What is it? At least it's possible that she—"

"I'm terribly sorry about my wife", Rodger interrupted her once again, but I couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. "She's always trying to find someone for our boy..."

"Well, he's a bit older than you, but you wouldn't mind, hmm?"

I laughed, I couldn't hold it back. Thank God though the break was over and we had to go back in. During the play I kept entertaining myself with a scene in which Mycroft would realise that this cute little couple was pairing me with their son.

That totally won't happen.

I started to feel uneasy again. Towards the end, my senses started tingling. A man in a hoodie got up from his seat and left the room. I followed him with my eyes. What unnerved me even more that I thought I saw a face under that hoodie which was impossible to see in this life.

As he turned his head and the lights from the play illuminated his face, my heart nearly stopped. A man, my age. Small moustache and beard, curly brown hair. Slightly round but masculine face. Eyes set dead on me.

I suddenly felt very nauseous.

**_Impossible!_ **

I quickly fished out my phone from my bag and texted Mycroft with shaking fingers.

_I just saw Heath! He left the room but the play is still going! He's supposed to be dead, isn't he??_

I silenced my phone but kept staring at the screen. I reduced its light so it wouldn't bother others that much. I kept the words hidden with my hands.

**You must've been seeing things. Calm down, Elisabeth. Breathe. It was just a man with familiar features. — M**

_I know I didn't see things! I'd recognise his face anytime!_

**It can't be him. Trust me. — M**

_How can you be so sure??_

**I saw him in the morgue. — M**

I felt I started to panic. Oh my God! Mycroft checked out Heath in the morgue?? Why? When?? But... I know I did **NOT** see things. That man was 100% him!

_Pick me up, please pick me up after!_

**Elisabeth, calm down. I'll be waiting for you outside. You're safe. I never would've let you go there if I didn't make sure you're safe. Keep. Calm. — M**

I glanced up at the actors and it was just finished. As they bowed to us and the people started clapping, I put my phone away and clapped with them. My nervousness didn't cease.

Minutes later, with sore hands, we made our way out with the crowd. I felt slightly better. In this crowd, nobody would find me.

"Thank you so much for coming with us", Rodger told me and I smiled at him.

"My pleasure, sir", I assured him.

"I think we'll linger for a while, but you go home. It must've been a long day with work and all."

"Yes, thank you."

We bid each other goodbye then I navigated out of the building and of course, near the entrance, was a black car with Phil standing near it. I breathed a sigh of relief as I greeted him, and when he opened the door for me, I sat in. Mycroft really did come for me.

"Thank you", I whimpered as he got a hold of my hand.

"Dear, your hand is as cold as ice."

"I'm a bit jumpier than before, I guess", I tried to joke about it as he took my shaking hand in his warm palms.

"Elisabeth, I'm sure it was just your imagination."

"I know it wasn't", I argued, "I... I used to think of him... I feel so guilty... he died because of me..."

Mycroft kept looking at me, uncertain. Then he sighed.

„Phil, please take us to Highgate cemetery.”

„Understood, sir”, the driver replied.

„The cemetery? What for?” I blinked at Mycroft and he gently stroked my fingers.

„I’ll show you his grave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than usual! I don't know if you noticed, but this chapter is almost 3900 words. I've been really generous, this time.  
> Any ideas how Elisabeth will react if she finds out who're Mary and Rodger? ;) You surely do know, don't you? <3  
> [Also, here's the pendant, if you're curious.](https://www.diamondsfactory.co.uk/design/full-bezel-setting-round-diamond-heart-pendant-clpd69101)


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Elisabeth, you should know better."

I wasn't sure I was ready to see the grave and Mycroft noticed, though he didn't push me with words, he simply held my hand. When we arrived, I got out of the car and pulled my jacket tighter around myself. It was late and the gate was closed, but Mycroft only spoke a few words to the man and we were granted passage.

_Where does his power over the country end?_

He led me through the cemetery. It was dark and I kept seeing something moving in the shadows. I held onto his arm tighter and for some reason, he seemed entertained because of this. Mycroft said nothing, though. He looked confident as he turned to right, then to the left, navigating us to the grave. I found it strange he knew the way by heart. The silence was suffocating. I could hear my own breathing, but nothing else. I didn't feel completely right. I always tried to avoid cemeteries; the aura of it unnerved me, even though I knew the dead wouldn't hurt me. Still, I continued to shake a little. I blamed the cold, but I also knew I wouldn't fool Mycroft.

"Here we are", his voice was calm and quiet, but it felt like it echoed in the dark silence.

I looked at the tombstone; the top of it could touch my knee if I stood directly next to it. There were many fresh flowers around the tombstone and a few candles. They weren't lit. Maybe the wind blew them away.

I read the name in gold on it, then the birth date and the death date. My hand jerked on Mycroft's arm. No, I wasn't ready for this. Not at all. My stomach clenched with the intense grief, even though I only knew Heath for like, half an hour.

"It's alright", Mycroft whispered to me and I held back my tears. "Let it go. Let it out."

"I don't... don't want to..."

"Elisabeth", he gently turned me to face him. I saw his face perfectly despite how dark it was, and he gently cupped my face in his hands. His touch was gentle. "It's alright. We're alone now, but I'll be here with you. I'm not judging you. You know you need this so you can heal. If you need to cry, then cry. If you want to scream, then scream. You'll feel better after, I promise."

I muffled a sob and pathetically hid my face in his shoulder. Then I pulled away, got my damned glasses off and hid my face again. His thick, black coat muffled any noises I made and drank all of my tears as he kept stroking my head.

What felt like hours, I finally pulled away. I realised my tears smeared my makeup, and in turn, tainted his coat.

"Nevermind", he got a hold of my hand when I tried to fix it with a kerchief. "I'll have it cleaned tomorrow."

"I'm so sorry", I sniffed and dried my face instead.

"It's alright." He took my glasses from my shaking hand. When I fixed my face, he gave it back to me. He still looked serious, but I felt like thousands of rocks've been lifted off of my chest. When Mycroft saw I was alright, he cleared his throat. "There's one more grave we need to see."

I closed my eyes at the thought. And new tears rolled down my face. I looked back at Heath's tombstone. _I'm so sorry. I never wanted this to happen to you. Please, forgive me._ Mycroft gently got a hold of my hand and led me away. A few another turns, left, left, right. Then we stopped again.

And my eyes found Scott's name.

I knew what I'd feel from the moment he told me there was another we needed to see, but I wasn't prepared at all how I wouldn't be able to stop myself. I fell apart. All this time I thought what Sherrinford and his 'friend' did to me during those months was the worst thing to happen to a human, and now I realised I was wrong. This was the worst. Seeing this name and knowing that... that lovely man was lying just beneath us, six feet deep.

Because my tortures ended, my wounds healed and I slowly started to be complete, once again. But he never would be. His life ended swiftly and brutally and it can never be undone.

Scott was the nicest man I've ever known. He was funny and witty (and had a horrible fashion sense); it was impossible for a person to dislike him. He never hurt anyone. And he was kidnapped, tortured and killed. Beaten and butchered.

All because of me. Just because Sherrinford wanted to get close to me, and through me, to Mycroft.

I didn't realise for how long Mycroft held me against his chest. I gripped his coat tightly again and I realised after a few minutes that my glasses were missing again, but I didn't remember taking them off.

When I finally calmed down — and soaked his poor coat even more — I've tried to get myself together. It was hard to accept he wanted me to fall apart twice in front of him, but I knew why did he want me to do it. And I really appreciated I didn't need to do it alone.

"They didn't deserve... what happened", I mumbled, voice hoarse, as I dried my face once more.

"They didn't", Mycroft replied quietly. "But I'm sure they know it's not your fault." I sniffed. "Don't blame yourself. You've had no idea what Sherrinford was capable of."

I nodded a few times and for some reason, it was easier to accept what he said. Maybe because I could ask for their forgiveness right here at their grave. I tried to fix his coat again and he let me, this time.

"Mycroft", I mumbled as I got rid of the stains slowly.

"Hmm?"

I looked up at him with a half smile.

"Nothing."

We walked back to the car and I kept replaying the memory when I saw that man. It was still creepy. Especially during Hamlet...

"Dinner?" Mycroft asked after we sat in and I finally smiled.

"Yes, please. Starving."

"Thought so", he grinned as we left the area. "That's my Elisabeth. Always hungry."

I rolled my eyes playfully and rested my head on his shoulder as I entwined my fingers with his.

"Stress", I sighed. "And the play was long."

"Really, how was it?"

"It was very good."

I didn't tell him I've forgotten what was it about before I saw it. Then I stroked his hand with my thumb.

"Why do you have to go with them to opera, anyway?"

"Because they like to."

"And you don't?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm not overly fond of crowds and screaming."

I held my mouth closed but I nearly burst from a laughter.

_"Screaming!"_

"They're definitely screaming."

"No, they're singing!"

"You call _that_ singing? Oh dear. What a twisted world."

I giggled. I felt so free, now. A great amount of the guilt has been lifted. It wouldn’t leave me completely, but it was slightly better, now.

"But why do you have to go with them?"

"Because Sherlock will not."

I blinked, then pulled away and looked at Mycroft's carefully guarded face.

"Why on Earth would Sherlock go with them?"

Mycroft cocked a brow.

"Why do you ask? Isn't it obvious?"

I stared.

"Sir, we've arrived."

"Good. Let's get in."

"Mycroft..."

"We'll continue, promise."

I sighed and got out, noticing we've arrived at a rather posh restaurant. _Typical._ I followed him and we were quickly led to a table. It wasn't matter he didn't reserve one for us, the waitress heard his name and immediately led us through the place to a quiet little corner.

_Where does his damned power end??_

He helped me with my coat, then we sat and got the menu.

"Can I bring you anything, sir?" Another waitress asked Mycroft.

I slightly furrowed my brows and looked up at her. She was very decorative, probably younger than me, her crisp white blouse nicely buttoned up, her face arranged in a big smile. Full lips, smokey eyes, blue irises and blonde hair — she was beautiful. Mycroft, though, didn't even look up at her. He kept browsing the menu.

"Yes, please bring us two glasses of your best red wine."

She glanced at me. I smiled up at her as sweetly as I could. Then she hurried away without even asking me if I needed anything. I glanced in my menu.

"Found anything you like?" He asked me and I hummed.

"Steeeak", I sighed. "Medium. With grilled veggies and mashed potatoes, mmm~"

Mycroft chuckled and glanced up at me.

"My lady sounds very, very hungry."

"I'm also thinking about some pancakes."

"What filling?"

"Mm", I checked the menu again. "Oh my!"

"What is it?"

"They can fill it with melted white chocolate!" I gasped in awe and I made him laugh again.

"Do you want to try?"

"Yes!"

He put his menu down and I did the same.

"Well then, it's decided."

"And what did you choose?"

"The same as you. I'm not in the mood to browse for long."

I smiled at him. Just when our wines arrived. I looked up at our waitress and lo behold — the first two holes became suddenly unbuttoned. The line between her full breasts were visible. I slightly pressed my lips together. My woman senses were tingling. She put on this show for him. But he didn't seem to care. When I looked at him he was examining my face.

"Here you are", the waitress said, leaning down to him, which was totally unnecessary, as she put the glass of wine next to his hand.

"Thank you." Mycroft's voice was quiet and gentle but he shot her a look which made her straighten herself. His gaze was very intense and even I felt it said **BACK OFF**. I smiled to myself a little. "Can I order now?"

"Of course, Mr Holmes."

And so he did. I didn't need to say anything as he remembered my order perfectly. She quickly wrote everything down, asked him once more if he needed anything — she totally ignored me — and then she was gone.

"So, you come here often?" I asked casually as he leaned back in his seat.

He slightly narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows and his thin lips twitched.

"What gave it away?"

"No reservation and you still got a table. The waitress knows you by name."

Mycroft nodded.

"And she's making you nervous."

"Nervous? Pah! You're seeing things!"

I lifted my glass up and drank a little. Uh, this was good!

"You're jealous", he pointed it out with an amused expression.

"Jealous? Please. Hardly."

Though... she really was beautiful... and I was slightly afraid... because I was an ugly little skeleton in glasses...

"Elisabeth, you should know better", he sighed as he picked up his glass, too.

"Know better?" I cocked a brow.

Did he notice everything on my face again? _How?_

"Yes."

"Know better what?"

His lips twitched.

"That you should not worry because you already have me."

My heart skipped a beat. Damn, his voice suddenly got ten times ~~sexier~~ softer.

"But..."

"No buts", he said in that same ~~sexy~~ soft tone, then leaned forward again and took my left hand with his right. "I guess there's something I should tell you. Until just now, I thought you knew who were Mary and Rodger. It never crossed my mind that they didn't introduce themselves properly. Do forgive me for that. I should've told you sooner."

I swallowed and prepared myself. And put down the glass, just in case I wanted to break it.

"Okay, spare me not", I sighed tiredly.

"They are my parents."

I stared. Then I started to blink rapidly. Okay. **_Okay!_** I kinda suspected there was something up with them! But not **_this!_** **Holy shit!**

"No way", I breathed.

Mycroft smiled. Oh my **GOD!** **I SAT NEXT TO MAMA HOLMES FOR _HOURS!_** And she… she said I was good company and she tried to… **holy macarony!** She tried to pair me with **_his son!_**

But… _which one?_ Both of them were older than me but she definitely hinted at Mycroft… as she asked my opinion about him a few times. And she said! **_We had chemistry!!_**

I suddenly blushed as red as possible. I picked the glass back up and downed the wine in one go. Mycroft arched a brow.

„Hmm, I think we’ll need another glass of that”, he commented.

That was when our beautiful waitress wandered to our table. I couldn’t say anything as Mycroft already placed another order for me, from the same wine. The way she said ’yes sir’ made me arch my left brow and I looked at her just when she leaned down to pick my glass up. Again, the leaning down was completely unnecessary, but she probably wanted to show off her boobs. Again. And the look she shot me made my hand itchy. Oh _that_ look! _Her **eyes**!_ So much hatred!

„Problem?” I popped her the question and she straightened her back.

„None.”

After the rude answer she walked out. I looked after her. She waved her hips a bit too much for my taste.

„She’s disappointed”, Mycroft noted and I could hear he was smiling. „She’s been trying to get my attention in the past few years.”

I looked back at Mycroft, slightly shocked.

„ _Years?_ ” I echoed.

„Ah, yes. I’ve been here quite a few times already. I like the atmosphere, the quiet, their food and wine. She’s been working here for five years by now. And she tried everything in her power to get my attention.”

„She’s definitely trying now, too”, I grumbled and he chuckled quietly.

„If even you notice it, then I guess she’s taking it a bit too far.”

„Yes, she does!” I sighed. „But she looks so nice.”

„On the surface.” He grumbled. I furrowed my brows. „What is it?”

„Nothing, it’s just…” I shook my head and leaned closer to him. Our eyes met again and I knew he was analysing everything on me. I’d hardly tell him anything new about my thoughts. As I put my hand on the table, his fingers immediately found mine. I closed my eyes for a moment and enjoyed his touch before I looked back in his eyes. „You could choose anyone yet you’re picking me. I’m broken inside and out. Why, then?”

My wine arrived. She put the glass between us, but I didn’t look up at her.

„Thank you”, I told her. She didn’t go away. I glanced up at her from behind my glasses. „We don’t need anything else”, I reassured her, my face still serious.

 _Get lost, boobies._ But of course, she didn’t look at me this time, either.

„Mr Holmes, can I bring you anything?” She asked him instead.

Mycroft sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked so tired.

 _„Hello”_ , I snapped at her, this time. „Would you please look at me when I’m talking to you?” She rolled her eyes and finally did. „Thank you. As I’ve said, we don’t need anything else.”

„I wasn’t asking you”, she snapped right back at me.

„I’ve noticed. But believe me when I say I can decide if **_we_** need anything.”

Her eyes scanned my appeaerance. Her face looked like she wanted to say something which I’d very much dislike, but before either of us could utter a word, Mycroft quietly interrupted us.

„If you do not wish to lose your job, Stephanie, then please, leave.”

„But Mr Holmes—”

„Enough.”

His quiet word froze the voice on her throat. She looked shocked. But then, she turned and left. I rolled my eyes, then looked at Mycroft again. He let me a few moments of silence to settle.

„So, just to clarify: I don’t need to play pretend with you. You know more about me than most.”

„You’re still hiding a lot from me”, I pointed it out.

He tilted his head slightly and his thumb stroked my finger.

„But you’d never judge me for the mistakes I’ve made.”

I furrowed my brows.

„You’re not making mistakes.”

At this, he laughed quietly. But it never reached his eyes.

„Elisabeth, you’re too dear to me. Trust me.”

„I don’t have to meditate on that. Since you’ve been fine with me going to the opera with your parents…”

Mycroft hummed.

„I thought you’d be more shocked by the news. And I also thought you knew who were they. I was slightly surprised when I saw how well you’re getting on.”

„Why is that a surprise?”

„Because sometimes, they’re making things difficult.”

„Not for me”, I frowned, „they were really nice. I liked to spend time with them.”

„Well then…” He sighed and got a hold of his glass with his free hand. I mirrored his movements. „Maybe I should introduce you…” He paused, purposefully. _„Properly.”_

_Oh no, what did I get myself into?_

„As…”

I couldn’t continue.

„As…” He went silent too and thought for a second. „Hmm, we need to work on that.” He wondered. „Girlfriend, well… it sounds childish. Partner – that’s a bit too formal, don’t you think?”

„Yeah, those two are out of the question.”

„Romantic companion?”

I laughed so suddenly and so hard I couldn’t stop myself. I was glad there was no one around us. Mycroft chuckled, too.

„I like this”, I nodded, then, still with a big smile. „Romantic companion it is, then.”

Our glasses touched with a cling and we drank to it, just when our food arrived. Our waitress placed Mycroft’s plate down gently, but she nearly tossed mine. When she was out of earshot, I grumbled to myself.

„I wanted to put my leg out so she’d trip and fall in it.”

„Don’t do that”, Mycroft’s voice was playful.

„Why?”

„Because you’re much more better than her in every sense.”

I smiled. Maybe he was right. Maybe he wasn’t.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Please, love, please..."

We ate in silence. The food was exquisite; and I filled my tummy much faster than he filled his own.

"Is it that delicious?" He asked as I got a piece of the steak on my fork.

"Yes, try it", I offered it to him playfully.

I knew well he wouldn't eat a piece of food off of my fork. But I was wrong. He leaned closer and quickly pulled the steak off, then grinned at me after he ate it. He surprised me. Again.

"Yours is better."

"She must've switched the plates by accident. She probably meant the better steak for you."

"Hmm, no", Mycroft teased, "it tastes better because you gave it to me."

I was so tired I wasn't sure I'd make it to the bed. He saw, but he didn't comment on it. After we got out of the car, he walked next to me, took my hand gently and we approached the door without even saying anything. I still was bewildered at the fact I've spent an entire evening with his parents, but I felt it amazing how he trusted me with them.

I gave Ninnie some food before I walked up in my room and started to undress. I got the necklace off first, then the bracelet. I smiled. I'll definitely need a jewellery box. As I scrubbed myself under the shower I replayed the evening's events in my head; the opera, the cemetery and the restaurant. I still had mixed feelings about it all, but I felt lighter, so I let it go. I dressed in my nightgown and frowned. I'll definitely need to go shopping. He notices everything and I've been wearing this same nightgown for a month. Of course, I washed it weekly, but still.

After I brushed my teeth I let Ninnie come with me to his bedroom. He wasn't there yet, so we both made ourselves comfortable in his bed. As I lied down, I let out a content sigh, feeling happy. Maybe we should eat more in restaurants. Once a week, perhaps? Have a Friday date. Every Friday.

I smiled at the ceiling.  ** _Date._**

Mycroft came back in the room and he smiled at me. I watched him as he walked over to his bed — still keeping his posture even in his PJs. He climbed under the duvet and turned off the light.

I snuggled to him and he wrapped me up in his arms. He felt warm and soft and his scent was amazing. I felt a hand of his on my face; his thumb brushed my cheek. This motion here in the dark was so loving that I nearly melted there. I gently kissed him and he returned my affections. His tongue like menthol. This time, we kissed each other slow, almost lazy. And I felt he smiled during it.

I wanted him so much.

When he pulled away, I sighed longingly. Mycroft hummed, as if he asked what did I want to say. What should I? That I wanted him? It was already obvious. But maybe... if I spoke my mind...

"Mycroft", I mumbled sleepily.

"Yes, dearest?"

I felt the hotness rushed in my cheeks at how he called me. I closed my eyes tight; I was so glad he couldn't see me now. But the wine still gave me some bravery.

"Touch me."

The silence was deep. I thought he forgot to breathe.

"I can't", he whispered.

"Why?" I nearly whined.

Did he really think I wouldn't be able to handle it? That he'd trigger me?

"I've told you."

He gently moved his fingers up in my hair at the back of my head, then he gently tugged at my hair. I shivered in his hold; caged by his arms, held securely in the dark.

"I'm sure I'll be able to handle it."

He tugged my hair again. Goosebumps ran all over my body and I quietly moaned.

"Not yet."

I whined quietly but it became a muffled moan again. He turned his head and kissed my cheek. His lips brushed against my skin right under my eye.

"Sleep, dearest. We'll have a rough day tomorrow."

"Rough?" I mumbled. "It'll be a Saturday."

"Yes, and we'll have to go to Sherlock. I need to talk to him."

At this news, my stomach clenched. Sherlock... I wondered if he got anywhere with the poem.

"Why?"

Mycroft's neatly trimmed nails slowly and gently ran across my scalp. I purred under his fingertips and leaned against his touch like a kitten.

"I gave him some work to do. Now sleep. I know you're tired."

He was right. I was. Even if I wanted to do something, well... it had to wait. He wouldn't let me.

So the next day I still felt a little embarrassed, but didn't say anything as we got ready in the morning. I put on a violet blouse and the skirt he deemed short back then and applied makeup to cover up any... mistakes.

"I hate it", I grumbled as my fingertips traced Sherrinford's teeth mark on my body before I put on my blouse.

I furrowed my brows, then walked in Mycroft's room. He was still in the bathroom, but the door was open, so I walked in and watched what he was doing. At the moment, he put on his garter belts, then slowly buttoned the sleeves of his shirt.

 ** _Oh damn this man!!_**  This lighter blue waistcoat made him look so... so... I wandered closer and gently touched his waist.

He froze mid-movement and looked at me, but didn't speak. I swallowed as my hand gently traced the line of his waistcoat's buttons, up from where his pocket watch's chain was attached, to his even lighter blue tie. I traced the line further, to his neck, under his chin, across his cheek. I watched his lips which he slightly parted; then I glanced up in his eyes.

We stared at each other for eternity (or seconds?) before he swiftly leaned closer to me and forcefully kissed me. I closed my eyes and my other hand slipped on his other cheek, too; I cupped his face and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue against mine.

Then he pushed me against the wall of his bathroom.

Hard.

I swear to God I rarely had problems before. I could always contain myself until my partner was ready. This also happened vice versa,  ** _they_**  had to wait until  ** _I_**  was ready. But I've been wanting Mycroft for so long I literally could feel my body burn from the inside out and my panties were soaked in a second when his hands held my waist tighter.

My knees shook under me. My palms started to sweat and my face — he could've cooked an omelet on it if he wished to. My imagination ran wild. I imagined how he'd ruin me like this, tearing my clothes apart, lifting my leg up so he could reach my oh-so-wet spot, how hard and fast his pace would be, how he'd moan—

Then... he pulled away.

He fucking pulled away.

I was still held against the wall, rather firmly, but all I could do was to let out a frustrated sigh as I closed my eyes.  _He's doing it on a purpose. He's trying to drive me crazy. And he succeeds!_

He pecked my lips.

"Elisabeth", he whispered, his mouth so close I felt his menthol breath.

I stroked his face. Little kisses were spread on my cheek; sliding slowly to the side of my face, up to my temple. Then an unexpected one landed on my eyebrow. I giggled and the frustration was gone. I tilted my head slightly and bit his chin ever so gently. A muffled groan could be heard from him and I giggled again.

"You're like Ninnie." He sounded amused. "I pet her and she bites me."

"Because she wants to play."

"Do you want to play?"

His tone was rather straightforward. _Oh dear me._

"I am playing now."

And I tilted my head more. And bit the tip of his nose, this time. Mycroft suddenly held me tighter against the wall and something warm flared up in my gut.

" **Don't** ", he warned.

I looked in his icy orbs. He was watching me intently, but I wasn't scared. I pecked his cheek, then lowered my hands to his shoulders and leaned to his neck. And gently bit him there, again, knowing well what that'd do to him. He might try to cover up, but the way he held me tight told me I could continue pushing my boundaries. And so I did. And his voice rumbled deeply in his chest before me.

"Hnn, no", he mumbled.

His right hand's fingers slipped up to my neck. With a firm hold on my jaw, Mycroft held me against the wall, pushing my head back. I loved it. And I knew he saw. Oh God, the ideas started a race in my head again.

"Bad girl", he scolded me gently.

I bit my lower lip and his eyes immediately darted down there to watch me doing it. Then I sighed and looked away.

„Then let me go before I seduce you completely.”

He applied just a little bit of pressure on my jaw and I looked back in his eyes.

„I’d say you don’t have to do that. But then, you’re right. I’m almost done dressing.”

„You’re taking so long I was bored.” I cocked a brow at him. „And, I like to see you in your shirt and waistcoat only.”

„And why is that?”

_Because then I can watch your neat, sexy buttocks when you turn away, that’s why._

„Because the jacket covers too much.”

Mycroft thought for a moment.

„Oh.”

Then I realised he probably figured out what I was thinking. But there was no point in denying the truth. He’d find out sooner or later anyway. Better to play with… semi-open cards. If those even existed.

 

We were at Sherlock’s apartment. Mycroft’s young guard, Hightower stood near Sherlock’s kitchen’s door, and I was near him at the moment. The two Holmes, of course, discussed matters which concerned them both; but they spoke in cryptic codes, of which none of the rest of us understood anything. I was nearby the fireplace and observed the skull when the door down opened.

**„BACK OFF!”**

I heard Mrs Hudson screamed downstairs. The blood froze in my veins and I immediately looked at Mycroft, who got to his feet – just as Sherlock. The feet came too fast. As I saw Mycroft move towards the door, I had my heart in my throat. No, you won’t jump in the way of anything right now, I thought. I lurched forward. Between him and the door. And I felt his hand on my arm.

Whoever rushed up the stairs arrived. I tossed Mycroft’s arm away when the first gunshot filled my ears. I jerked slightly, but my training kicked in. Whoever attacked us – how could he get through Mycroft’s guards? –, he attacked Hightower first. He ducked and cursed, visibly having problems with shooting right back.

So I moved before Mycroft and shoved him backwards.

„THE GUN!” I yelled at Hightower who hid behind John’s armchair.

He didn’t think twice. And in mere seconds, I had his gun in my hand. I pointed it at the tall, lean man.

„Moriarty sends his regards”, he growled at us and aimed.

At me.

The name burned into my soul. Shock could’ve froze me completely if I didn’t know what was at stake. But with Mycroft and Sherlock directly behind me, I decided to think about it later.

I raised Hightower’s gun just in time.

Or a moment too late.

The second shot bypassed me. He missed! I aimed and shot right back, my bullet piercing his heart. After all this time, I still had it in me. I was kind of proud of myself.

"Uhh..."

The noise behind me was quiet. I turned and noticed Mycroft right there — right behind me. And I immediately realised my mistake.

That man's bullet didn't hit me. It hit another target instead.

Mycroft's chest.

My heart accelerated. Things around me seemed to freeze as I immediately tossed the gun in Hightower’s hand, who caught it. Mycroft stared at me in complete shock. Maybe he wasn't prepared for this. Or maybe his mind already ran a mile a second to think through the possibilities of this event. It was visible he was frozen mid-movement; his right hand was still gripping Sherlock's coat as he whipped his brother out of the way. My throat tightened of the sight.

Mycroft tried to protect Sherlock. At all costs. Despite he knew the bullet could kill him, this way.

"No, no, no, no!"

Sherlock's rapid 'no's reached my ear and I saw Mycroft's knees buckled. Suddenly, both me and Sherlock got a hold of him and we gently laid him down on the floor. I didn't look at the damage, yet; I kept eyecontact.

"Stay with me", I told him, my voice alien to my ears. My throat was tight and I felt like an automatic pilot took over my body. "Stay. With. Me. Breathe."

"El— Elis— a..."

"It's alright, it'll be alright."

I was lying. And he knew. Sherlock swiftly unbuttoned Mycroft's waistcoat with his shaking fingers and I finally moved my eyes from my dearest's face, which became more and more pale at an alarming rate. The sight numbed my brain. There was so much blood. Too much blood! Oh God, this... this was way too much...

Hightower called an ambulence already. Sherlock was busy calling John, who didn't pick up. And I stared back at Mycroft's face again.

His eyes were closed.

I quickly got a hold of his left wrist with shaking fingers and I felt like my heart stopped.

**_As well._ **

"Sherlock!" I screamed.

I couldn't control myself. I scooted closer to him and now I realised his chest wasn't moving. Tears flooded my eyes. The sight shot me straight to panic mode.  _You can't! You **CAN'T! DON'T!**_

"Air", whispered Sherlock on his other side and put his hands on Mycroft's chest.

I heard him count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, then I leaned down, pinched Mycroft's nose closed, opened his mouth slightly and blew air in his lungs. Then straightened myself and listened as Sherlock counted to five again. I was sobbing as I leaned down to bring a breath in his chest again, my other hand gripping his hand tightly.

"Please, please", I begged as the numbers went up to five again. I breathed in. His lips started to become cold and pale. I held his hand so tight I wasn't sure I'd be able to let it go again. "Please, love, please..."

A moment later many things happened at once. I blew another lungful of air into his and he suddenly jerked. My fingers on his wrist felt his heart started pumping blood again. Weakly, but it did. Another thing was that the ambulence rushed in. I felt Sherlock was trying to get me away from Mycroft to let the specialists get to work, but I held onto Mycroft's hand too tightly.

"It's alri—"

"No!" I cried, "no!"

"It's fine, we brought him back, let the ambulence do their work, he's—"

"Don't!" I cried out again when they tried to remove my fingers from his wrist.

"Elisabeth, let him go, they want to help", Sherlock hushed me.

I couldn't. Because I've had a terrible thought that if I let him go now, I'd never see him alive again.

"What took you so long?!" Sherlock asked someone, but I didn't care.

I felt a little sting in my other arm. I whipped my head to that side and saw John arrived. And he had something small in his hand.

I fell in a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

I woke up feeling like a car overrun me. I stared at the wall; it was white with black fleur-de-lis motives and... and a yellow smiley face? I groaned.

**_I know this wall._ **

"Sherlock, she's awake!"

Who was this?  **John.**   _Why, where...?_  I frowned — half of my face was numb. I touched it. I felt so weird.

"Awake? Good."

"You...!"

I gasped and I tried to get up as fast as I could. Which resulted in me pushing myself half up, then launched myself at him — but I collapsed. And he caught me. How ironic. I wanted to kill him — or at least punch him — and he catches me so I wouldn't hurt myself in the coffee table.

"At ease." He sat me back down on the sofa I was asleep on.

"Mycroft, where's Mycroft?!" I demanded immediately.

He mumbled the name of the hospital as he watched me as I tried to get up.

"The bullet is removed and it caused severe injury to the right side of his lungs. His condition is critical."

 ** _Critical._**  The word shattered me. I got to my feet again and Sherlock pushed me back on the sofa.

"Let me up!" I shouted.

"Why would I? What do you want to do?"

I stared at him, bewildered.

"I want to be there with him!"

"Why?"

I cursed like a sailor and it visibly surprised him. I tossed his hand away from my arm and got to my feet again, making a pathetic half-run and half-feet-dragging. I was glad I still had my boots on. I felt his hand on my arm again, trying to pull me back.

"Let me go or I swear to God I'll punch you so hard you'll end up in a hospital, too!" I shouted again.

"Sherlock, let her go", John gently told him.

And he did. I relied on the wall just before the stairs. I've had no idea for how long I've been out, so I fished out my phone of my pocket. 11.28 am. The whole night, and most of the afternoon was gone and he's been fighting in every second to stay alive. I frantically searched for a name in my contacts. I got his name a few days ago and how relieved I was that I had it.

"Why? She can't help him, he's unconscious."

"Phil!" I sighed, relieved, when my call's been picked up, "can you pick me up at Baker Street 221B, please?"

"Of course ma'am. I'm on my way."

"Thank you so much", I put the phone down and walked to the stairs, as fast as I could.

"Elisabeth, you need to rest", Sherlock came after me, grabbing my arm again and I groaned.

"I'll rest at his side."

"It's illogical to—"

"Leave me alone!"

"There's no point in going there, he—"

"I'll translate my current feelings for you, Sherlock, and listen well, because I will  ** _NOT_**  repeat myself", I turned and looked at him. He looked from one of my eyes to the other, visibly confused. "If John was shot and he's between life and death, you'd be there with him despite knowing he's unconscious." Sherlock froze. He didn't say anything. "Let me go. My place is by his side."

Sherlock blinked, then sighed and released me.

"They won't let you see him."

"They will."

"Only relatives are allowed to—"

"I'll say I'm his wife."

As I continued to walk down the stairs slowly, I heard Sherlock came behind me.

"But you don't have the necessary papers and they'll ask for them!"

"I **_have_** the necessary papers!"

I turned and looked up at him. He furrowed his brows.

"Why, are you two married?"

His quiet question was slow, hesitant, as if he wasn't sure if he should ask this or not. And if... if he wasn't sure how I'd react to it.

"No", I waved tiredly. "But when we went to Hill's residence he gave me fake papers and on those, I am Elisabeth Holmes."

"This is against the law."

It wasn't a question.

"I don't give a damn about the law", I tossed it at him and he looked so puzzled. "Mycroft is more important to me than the law!"

I didn't care about Sherlock as I continued my way down. They didn't come after me. The tranquilizer slowly left my system and I started to regain my strength just when I reached the bottom floor. I noticed my black jacket hanging near the entrance, so I put it on, just when there was a knock on the door. I opened it.

"Ah, Phil, quick as always. I'd like to ask you to take me home first."

And that, he did. I searched my room for the old papers and when I found them, I ran back down to the car. Phil took me to the hospital. After a brief greeting...

"I'm here to see Mycroft Holmes", I told the woman at the reception and she glanced up at me with literal question marks in her eyes. "He's been brought here yesterday."

She checked her computer.

"He's still in intensive care." The reply turned my stomach upside down. "You can only visit him if you're a relative."

"I'm his wife", I told her, trying to sound confident, but my voice shook from the news; he still wasn't okay. "Here..."

I showed her my fake ID and she glanced back at me, puzzled, but then, she told one of the other nurses to show me the room. And that, she did. We arrived in a smaller room on the fifth floor. The beeping of the machines filled me with dread. But that was nothing compared to the sight.

He was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious. A relatively big oxygen mask was on his face. Many more tubes ran out from under his duvet with which he was covered, into the machines. I sized up the machines, too. There was one monitoring his heartbeat, hence the beeps. Another, pushing air in his lungs. Another, with buttons and the word "Morphine" written above it. It was set to very high. I could only imagine how much pain he must've been in.

I didn't notice I started to cry. I slowly made my way to his side and pulled the only chair for myself, without looking away from his face. I gently took his right hand. His other one had more tubes and needles attached. I brought his hand up and kissed it.

"Oh Mycroft", I sobbed pathetically, holding his warm hand against my cheek. He was alarmingly still. "Come back, please... come back to me..."

The nurse silently watched me as I fell apart. I didn't notice when did she leave.

 

"Mrs Holmes."

"Yes?"

"Here're his belongings."

I blinked tiredly and glanced up at the nurse who handed me the trinkets in a small paper bag. She left. I stared at the bag and opened it. They must've taken these off with everything else he was wearing... I swallowed, but my throat was dry as I opened the small bag and looked at its contents. His phone. I unlocked the screen’s lock, then shut it down. I didn’t want anyone to touch it. His pocket watch. His ring.

**His ring.** _Of course._

Since he was still in critical condition the doctors checked his machines every thirty minutes. There was still a chance his heart would give up and... and he'd never wake up again.

Suddenly, an idea dawned on me. To some, it might've been a terrible idea. To me, it was brilliant.

I stared at his ring and smiled faintly.

"It'll be fine", I mumbled quietly. I put them away in my bag. Then I gently took his hand again. "You’re not going anywhere without me..."


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why am I on Moriarty's naughty list?"

"You have to go home", John's quiet words made me anxious.

"I'm not going anywhere."

My voice was hoarse and deeper than usual, but I still held Mycroft's hand and continued to watch his face.

"Elisabeth", John tried again, "you certainly won't help Mycroft if you're neglecting yourself."

I blinked and finally glanced up at John. I didn't notice until now he put his left hand on my shoulder. He was standing right next to me and next to him, there was Sherlock, too.

"I'm not neglecting myself."

"You've been here for four hours and only used the bathroom, aren't you tired, thirsty, hungry?" Sherlock asked and I swallowed.

"No."

"It's been more than 24 hours since—"

"Sherlock, please, shut up!"

"Elisabeth, you need some rest, too", John whispered and tears flooded my eyes.

"I'm not leaving him! Stop trying to make me, I'll stay and it's final!"

"Alright, alright. Fine. You stay. But where will you sleep, then?" John looked around.

"In this chair", I mumbled and looked at Mycroft's face again.

_That huge oxygen mask..._

"That will be slightly uncomfortable."

I blinked rapidly. More tears. Where did they come from? When would they stop falling?

"I can't sleep without him", I whispered.

"Can't? Without him?" Sherlock echoed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I swallowed again. My throat was dry.

"I need him", I whispered with a lump in my throat. I stroked Mycroft's hand gently. "You don't understand. He's my anchor. Without him, I'm lost. I'm nothing. I... I don't... don't want... to... to... you know..."

John gently squeezed my shoulder.

"Alright", he said then quietly. "Alright, I understand you. But you really should eat something. Why don't you go to the buffet, hmm? We'll be here to make sure he's safe."

I broke down sobbing again. John understood. It wasn't matter he knew too that it was useless to sit hours next to an unconscious person, he understood and didn't judge me. But I didn't move.

"I can't... I can't... leave him... like this... what if... if..." I whimpered and John sighed.

"Then I'll bring something, okay?"

I nodded as I glanced back at Mycroft's hand which I took in mine again.

Beep, beep, beep. John was gone. Sherlock stayed.

I stayed in silence and he didn't talk either. For a while. Then he sighed and walked next to me.

"Why are you so afraid?"

"Because he means so much to me and... and I... don't... don't want to... lose him", I whispered, on the verge of tears again.

"You will not lose him", Sherlock replied quietly. "He's stronger than you'd think."

It was strange; his tone... it sounded like... I looked up at him and he smiled down at me. His eyes were full of sadness.

"Yes." I smiled up at him and he put his hand on my shoulder like John before. "He is. He'll come back."

"And he'll complain that you've cried your eyes out."

"Oh that'd be him, alright." I mimicked Mycroft's soft voice.  _"Elisabeth, worrying is illogical..."_

My lips quivered and another wave of tears escaped me. I pushed my hand on my lips as I tried to muffle my pain. Not physical pain. No physical pain can be this painful.

"He'll pull through", Sherlock tried to reassure me. I nodded a few times as I couldn't talk properly at the moment. "I'm absolutely sure of it."

John came back a bit later and he brought me two ham and eggs sandwiches with a bottle of water. I ate in silence and they didn't talk for a while, either. When I finished the second and started to drink, Sherlock started to talk.

"I'll persuade the nurses to allow you to stay here."

„Thank you”, I mumbled.

„And I’ll also go and check up on Ninnie.”

I looked up at Sherlock, and he half smiled on me. I felt so guilty.

„Don’t cry again”, he warned when he saw I’ve had new tears in my eyes. „Soon, Mummy will come here. You’ll handle it, right?”

I swallowed nervously. I knew this way I’d need to explain myself why was I here; even if Mycroft wished to keep it a secret. And what if the nurses downstairs told Mycroft’s mother that _his wife_ is with him? They’ll be upset at me. I sighed.

„Okay. I can handle it.”

Or so I hoped. Three hours later Mr and Mrs Holmes arrived; I was very tired, but I couldn’t sleep because of the beeping, so I just sat on the chair when they opened the door. I got to my feet.

„Good afternoon”, I said tiredly, „let me explain everything.”

And that, I did. I also had to admit the truth about my training as well, and when they pulled it out of me how I tried to protect both Mycroft and Sherlock in Baker Street 211B, Mrs Holmes burst out in tears. And to my utter surprise, I did, too.

 _Women,_ I read it off of Mr Holmes’s face.

„So you can’t leave now?” Mrs Holmes asked and I nodded when she pulled away from me.

„I can’t be sure there wouldn’t be more bad guys trying to attempt on his life, so I’ll stay.”

„How many times have you saved him?”

I smiled faintly, then got a handkerchief and wiped my eyes. Mummy Holmes seemed a bit more cunning than she seemed.

„Too many times to count.”

 

That evening, John visited us again and brought me a bag with some of my clothes in it. I needed to have a shower, but I didn’t want to leave Mycroft, just in case… then doctor Watson persuaded me to… refresh myself a bit. If that was possible. To me, it wasn’t. In the past few hours I tried to stop letting the bad thoughts getting the best of me, but they seemed to gather above my head like a dark cloud.

„I can never get used to him… being like this”, I whispered as I sat on the bed which was next to Mycroft’s. The chair was moved and another hospital bed was brought here, so I could sleep. I had my doubts about that. „I’m afraid… that he’d never… you know.”

„He will wake up”, John tried to reassure me. „And you’ll see there was nothing you needed to be afraid of.”

„Who was the man who attacked us?” I mumbled and looked at John. His face darkened a bit. „Tell me what you know. Please. If he wakes up, he’ll make sure to silence every information which could get to me.”

„His name was Andrew Hike. He’s been threatened that he’d be killed if he didn’t do what he was told.”

„Was it really…” I felt my hands went numb. „Moriarty?”

John’s face only gave away confusion. He wasn’t sure. And I wasn’t glad he wasn’t sure.

„It can’t be him”, John mumbled and his eyes were uncertain, „he shot himself in the head. There’s no way a man can survive that.”

„But then there’s Sherlock who survived a fall like that.”

„That was planned out.”

„What if Moriarty had it planned out as well?” I wondered. He stayed silent. I looked back at Mycroft. He was still unconscious. „What does he want with me?”

„Did you tell Mycroft? The message?”

„No. I wrote it down for Sherlock then deleted it.”

I saw from the corner of my eyes John bit his lower lip.

„Why?” He asked then.

„Because he’d keep it in secret. He doesn’t want to trigger me.”

„And you don’t like that?”

„No, because I don’t want the future to hit me unprepared.”

I looked back at John and he looked like he was hesitating.

„You know, I’ve been thinking about this for a real long time…” John revealed a file from his coat’s inner pocket and opened it, showing me its contents. „I didn’t think much of it back then, but… but now I think it makes sense. When we chased Moriarty once, he was in a journalist’s apartment and he tried to make me believe he was just a storyteller in the telly. Richard Brook. The DVDs really existed. He went through to create all of that just to play a game on us. But what if…?”

I lifted up one of the papers and looked into the dark eyes of the man who was my personal nightmare ages ago. His name was a dark echo in the deepest reaches of my mind. I didn’t care about him ever since he was declared dead… I was glad the bastard got what he deserved. But if that poem I received and the killer sent our way were a sign that he was alive, then…

„We need to think that he didn’t die”, I mumbled and dread filled me up. I absolutely hated the idea. „And we need to be prepared for him when he comes.”

„Sherlock says it’s impossible he survived a headshot like that.”

I put the picture back down on the file and looked at John with a darkened expression.

„And what if”, I hesitated for a moment, „Richard Brook truly was just an actor… playing his best play on the rooftop for Moriarty?”

 

I couldn’t sleep.

I got somewhat used to the beeping sounds, but every time I closed my eyes I saw Moriarty’s face.

We need to be prepared for him when he comes.

I got to my feet and checked myself in the mirror in the bathroom. My injuries slowly faded. Too slowly. There was no time for them to heal in their own pace. I needed something to hurry up the process. I needed my strength back, as soon as possible. The holiday obviously was over.

I must get to work with myself, immediately. And I was sort of happy Mycroft wasn’t awake to grumble about it for me.

I started to slowly jog around Mycroft’s room. I counted the turns. My muscles hurt around the twentieth round.

„Come on”, I mumbled to myself and switched to sit-ups.

After twenty of those, I did the same amount of push ups. When I was done, I felt like again that a car ran over me. With a groan, I went to wash my face, then I walked back in the room and sat down on my bed. I watched Mycroft’s face in the dim light. Then I looked down at my right index finger which had his gold band on.

With a sigh, I hid under the covers, wishing he held me as he used to do in the past few weeks. My nightmares in the past few days seemed to get worse, and I terribly missed him.

 

The days slowly melted away.

I barely could sleep, I was constantly half awake. There was no way I could try and rest. And even if I did, I woke up to nightmares after which I couldn’t fall back asleep. So I did my best with my time, training myself.

I persuaded the nurses to bring me food when they checked up on Mycroft, and I could concentrate all the time on myself.

The first horrible thing happened three days after he was shot. During the night, his heart failed. If I wasn’t there, awake, to help him until the nurses arrived, it could’ve been the last night of his. After that, I spent hours holding onto his hand, crying.

The next horrible thing happened on the fifth day. A tall, nice man walked in the room… then he closed the door, then locked it. I shot to my feet and I was glad I resumed my training, because he was much more stronger than me.

I only received a few bruises. He got a broken nose, leg, and he was still unconscious when DI Lestrade and Sherlock ran in to collect him.

These things only made it harder for me to fall asleep. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave this hospital on my own, alone. No way. What if there’d be an attempt on his life again?

Again, I used the same method when I was falling apart after he saved me. I turned my fears and sadness to anger. And that anger fueled my passion to survive and pull through each and every agonizing hour and day.

And the thoughts kept coming.

He was let out of intensive care, at last. His physical condition resumed to normal, right after two weeks that he’d been shot. But he didn’t wake up. And I was afraid he’d never do that again. On the fifteenth day came a decorative woman who had a nice syringe in her hand after she closed his door. I wasn’t entirely sure who was it meant for, because she started to come after me right away and she almost prickled me with that needle. Later it turned out it was a lethal injection.

 Someone wanted me out of business, permanently. But the strange thing was that it seemed to me they weren’t interested in Mycroft at all. Why? Why was I so important? And to whom? I had my doubts Moriarty even knew who I was. I was nothing. Especially right now.

 

Why won’t he wake up?

Am I doing something wrong?

What did I do to deserve this?

Third week. I gained a whole pound, built some muscles. It’s awfully quiet. I couldn’t sit on my ass anymore. I was always afraid when night came around, I thought I kept seeing something in the shadows.

Then Sherlock visited me. He told me it was just a matter of time, now.

How much do I have to wait?

„Have you been working out?”

„Hm?”

„Are you working out?”

„Yes.”

„You’re not that pale anymore.”

„After all of those attacks on his life, I can’t really rest easy.”

„ _His_ life?”

Sherlock’s voice echoed, and I stared at him from behind my glasses.

"You do not believe those people wanted to cause _him_ harm, do you?"

His quiet question sent a shiver down my spine.

"What did I do?" I whispered. "Can't I just live in peace?"

"If you wanted peace, you never would've started to go out with my brother." He grinned. "And me, in the first place."

I swallowed and got my glasses off to rub the bridge of my nose.

"I'm tired, Sherlock. I want to know what you know."

"I'm sure John told you everything already."

"Why am I on Moriarty's naughty list?"

"As a matter of fact, you aren't." I furrowed my brows as I looked at him again. He didn’t say anything for a while, then he half smiled. “Listen, I want to ask something from you.” There was a knock on the door and John walked in. We greeted each other and he sat on the chair on Mycroft’s bed’s other side. “I know he’d probably hate it if I did this, but I really need your expertise with such… troubling things.”

“What sort of things?”

He knew he had me the moment he uttered ‘troubling things’. And his grin widened because he knew ages ago he’d lure me right in.

“I’ve tracked down a group which needs to be… taken care of.”

“Well, this sounds like what I did for Mycroft before I…” I went silent. I didn’t want to remember _that_. “Why?”

“Because they may be connected to Moriarty. I wouldn’t want you to kill them, of course; you just need to make sure they can be brought in for questioning.”

“How many of them?”

“Four.”

“Fine.”

“Can you do it?”

“If you give me a gun with which I can put them right to sleep, then it’ll be fine. On one condition.”

“Listening.”

“Doctor Watson will guard Mycroft until then. I don’t trust anyone else.”

At this, Sherlock’s smile became the softest one I’ve ever seen on his face.

“That was what I was thinking.”

 

As I felt fine in my current physical condition, I decided I’d get it over with as soon as possible. I got dressed in tight jeans, black shirt and a leather jacket I loved so much back from the time I was still training, then sat on the edge of Mycroft’s bed. I gently got a hold of his hand. In the past three days, the heart monitor was put back, just because I felt better if I heard the beeping sounds. So, I listened to his calm heartbeat as I raised his hand and put it in my lap.

“I’ve never told you”, I mumbled, smiling at his fingers, “how beautiful your hands are. I really like to see them, you know?” I glanced at his face and how peaceful his expression was hit me again. I blinked down on his fingers. “I wish I could tell you again how much I love you. But I guess this is time for me to say something else. Dear, if you hear me, just know that I am not doing things like this to make you angry or worried. I do these to keep us safe. And right now…” I sniffed, and looked at his face again. “You can’t keep us safe, so I must do it myself.” I still held his hand with my left, then leaned a bit closer to him and gently stroked his face with my right hand. “I’ll be back, I promise. But if I won’t…” I leaned closer just a little bit, and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Just don’t be angry at me when you wake up, alright? I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

I gently kissed his cheek as well, then placed his hand back down on the bed and I got to my feet. Was I imagining things? It seemed to me his heartbeat was a bit faster than before. With a sigh, I pulled up my zip and turned when I heard the door opened. John smiled at me, a bit nervous.

It’s show time.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Still so feisty.”

I thought through what I've done so far.

I had to go home earlier this morning and I put the bracelet and the necklace in the safe above his bed, behind the painting. I was glad he did not change the code for that. I played with Ninnie a bit; I felt awful for leaving her here alone but I was glad Sherlock kept her company every two days. And the last thing... I put my laptop with my Last Will, opened but on sleep, on his bed. I also wrote him a formal apology, if anything turns that bad.

My heart was heavy. I've had no idea if I ever even met him again, but I still hoped he'd forgive me, with time. I got back in the car and sat next to Phil who smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but it wasn't easy for me right now.

The car ride took twenty minutes. Why must the bad guys always gather in the outer rim of the town? The — until yesterday — abandoned little house seemed cozy from outside, but in it were many laptops and men. Including Sherlock, DI Lestrade, a woman and a man I didn't know, and a few S.W.A.T. members.

"Hey, what's up?" I greeted Sherlock and he didn't even turn from his laptop to look at me.

"We're almost ready", Lestrade hurried to reply to me. "Sherlock's been making us set up cameras in the past few days and he's synchronising them right now."

"Good", I nodded.

Did I imagine things, or Lestrade _really_ glanced at my lips? And licked his while he was at it...

"Here're the toys", the brown, curly haired woman told me and she showed me a desk where the trinkets were.

I grinned to myself. Yes. This is what I need to make me feel alive again. I felt slightly bad because I knew what would I get from Mycroft if he woke up, but could anyone be really mad at me? I've been spending near a month in a hospital.

"Freak", the woman spat and I furrowed my brows. "How long do you take with all of it?"

"Moments, Donovan."

Sherlock's quiet and calm reply froze me in place. What. Did she just call him 'freak' instead of Sherlock? And he replied to her insult just as if she did the latter? I picked up the special gun they prepared for me and I checked the ammunition. Who the fuck did she think she was?! How dared she?!

"You'll need to charge in alone", I heard Lestrade's voice behind me and I still glared at the gun. "But I have a team ready to aid you if there's a need."

Why the fuck did she think so high of herself?! She wasn't half as clever as Sherlock!

"I'll be fine, sir", I replied quietly and strapped the gun to my right thigh in its holster.

"Are you sure?"

I turned to look at him. He seemed curious of me and when our eyes met his pupils dilated. What the—

"Absolutely."

"Done!" Sherlock jumped to his feet and took a few steps towards me. Then his eyes flicked right at Lestrade. And his brows furrowed just slightly. Shit, he noticed, too. He looked back at me — _gosh please get me out of this mess,_ I thought — and he smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Ms Lone. Doctor Watson will take care of him until you come back."

"I know", I mumbled with a half smile, then turned back to the table. "And he better. Or I'll have to kick his ass, too."

"Are you sure about this?" Sherlock asked as I got my jacket off and started to put on the bulletproof vest over my shirt.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, without even turning to look at him.

At my question, he hesitated.

"You don't seem nervous or afraid."

"It's just a job, Sherlock."

"Yes, and men will try and fire at you. With real guns."

I turned to look in his eyes.

"Do I stall him and his plans if I do this?" At my question, Sherlock hesitated again. I smiled. "Yes, thank you. That's all I needed to know."

"Stall who?"

I cocked a brow at Lestrade, then glanced at Sherlock, who stayed silent. So I smiled. He really didn't tell anyone, after all; I figured it'd cause slight panic. Hah. _Slight._

“A bad guy, sir. Worry not.” I checked my gun again, then picked up the helmet from the table. “I’ll make sure we catch him.”

I heard Sherlock walked after me as I started to leave the building.

“I’ll watch you.”

“There’ll be no need. I’m a big girl.” Outside, I found my ride. I always wanted to ride a Harley Davidson, but I guess this won’t be that occasion. I sat up on the bike and glanced at Sherlock with the helmet in my lap. “Listen…” I mumbled, looking at him. He waited. Then I sighed and shook my head. “Ah, nevermind, he knows…”

I put on my helmet, then started up the bike and I heard Sherlock shouted something to me, but I didn’t stop to listen.

 

The tall house stood proudly in the middle of nowhere. I got off my bike a few hundred meters before and I listened to Sherlock’s mumbling in the earpiece in my left ear. I approached the house slowly, hid in the bushes and proceeded carefully. He said they didn’t come out in the past few days but soon they’d run low on food, so they’d need to leave the house. I approached the back door and checked it – it was locked. But I spotted a window nearby and it was open.

“I’m going in”, I whispered for Sherlock.

“Alright.” He hesitated. “Be careful.”

“Sherlock, you’re doing the same as your brother.”

“Believe it or not, we’re alike.” A small pause. I slowly raised my leg and put my foot on the sill. “And we both worry for you.”

“And you’re both driving me insane with it.”

“That may be so.” He sounded entertained. “But if he only sensed Moriarty threatened you, you’d be under the highest security.”

“Meaning, he’ll kick your ass for this”, I grinned as I pulled myself up on the sill. I sat there like a cat for a few moments as I sized up the kitchen I arrived in; it was an ordinary looking countryside kitchen, and it was empty. I lowered myself and got my gun in my hand. “He’ll be extremely pissed at you.”

“Hmm, do you think so?” He mused. I didn’t reply as I proceeded. I was sneaking down to the corridor, my gun ready, as silent as ever. “I guess you’re much more to him than a secretary, don’t you think?”

“Maybe”, I left it to him.

“Honestly, where do you two stand?”

I furrowed my brows. I really hoped Sherlock didn’t bring me in an empty house just to talk about this with me. When I didn’t reply and scanned through the lower parts of the place, I figured the bad guys must’ve been upstairs. I sighed.

“How serious is it between you two?”

I cocked a brow as I sneaked up the stairs.

“Elisabeth, reply.”

“Very serious, Sherlock.”

I smiled to myself when I saw the first man’s shoulder appear on the top of the stairs. I fired as quickly as I could and he fell with a thump. Wow! This must’ve been a really strong stuff!

“MAN DOWN!” Someone shouted and I heard feet running to the stairs.

I literally slipped down the stairs and hid in the living room. I heard they came right after me. This wasn’t like the missions with Mycroft where he exactly knew when the bad guys would show up – this was completely different. I was alone.

Painfully alone.

“Come out wherever you are!”

I grinned to myself and put my hand out from behind the sofa and shot. Thump! Another. Two left. Suddenly, the vase next to the sofa was blew into pieces. My heart jumped up in my throat; I knew I gave myself away, but I couldn’t do anything else. So I just waited a moment, slid to the left and lied down on the floor, then peeked under the sofa and saw two pairs of legs. **YES!** I shot, as quickly as I could, and I heard Sherlock shouted before they both fell.

“I’m done”, I mumbled and got to my feet. I saw the men were knocked out completely. I grinned proudly. “They’re all—”

“Oooohhhhhh! What a lovely sight!”

My blood froze in my veins. I knew this voice, I heard it in Hill’s house. It seemed to me the voice spoke directly from the walls. I turned around, searching for the source, but I couldn’t find it, of course. I had my gun ready, nevertheless.

“ _Liz_ , was it?”

The shiver ran up and down my back when he called me Liz.

“Let’s stay with Elisabeth, if you don’t mind.”

As he laughed and his voice echoed in the room, Sherlock spoke quietly in my earpiece.

“It’s a trap.” _Oh, do you think so, Sherlock?! Like, I never even suspected this!_ “You need to leave as fast as you can. I sent the SWAT team for you. Get out of there, the men will bring the bad guys h—”

“You caused me quite the problem in Hill’s, mind you. And all those naughty things with Sherrinford… I believe you became pals, right?”

 **Shit.** Sherlock probably had no idea about Sherrinford. From Mycroft’s replies regarding the eldest Holmes it seemed to me it was still top secret.

“The past stays in the past, Moriarty.” I calmly walked to the corridor, back to the kitchen. “Too bad the same doesn’t apply to you.”

“As for the past, Elisabeth… we have one, you know. And I’m not ready to just let it go.”

I gritted my teeth.

“You **_will_** let it go. Or I’ll make you.”

Moriarty laughed.

“Still so feisty.”

“Shut up.”

Sherlock was awfully quiet and I knew he started calculating everything Moriarty said already. I put away my gun and ran for the window. I climbed out.

“We’ll meet again, Liz.” His words echoed in my ears as I made a run for it. “We will meet. Again!”

I was still upset when I arrived back to the first safe spot. It didn’t help me at all when I saw Sherlock’s expression: the way he was examining my face and my appearance told me he was thinking of the things he heard from Moriarty.

I should’ve switched off my fucking earpiece.

“It’s done”, I tossed the helmet, the gun and the vest back on the table. I got my jacket on. I knew only Sherlock heard the banter with Moriarty, but I still was upset when Lestrade came too close to me. “I’ll go back to the hospital.”

“You were amazing”, Lestrade’s words couldn’t make me smile.

“Thanks. But it really was nothing. I need to go.”

As I started to walk outside, I heard the woman started to talk to Sherlock again.

“Freak, here’re the visuals you wanted.”

I stopped walking, turned back, and walked back to the woman. Before Sherlock or Lestrade could even grab my arm, I tossed the woman across the room and against the wall with a hand, my fingers clutching her clothes at her neck.

“Call him like that again—”

“Elisab—” Sherlock tried to calm me down, but I raised my voice.

 **“CALL HIM LIKE THAT AGAIN!”** I shouted in her face. She seemed she was in panic and she tried to get out of my grasp, but I held her only tighter as I tossed Sherlock’s arm off of my hand. I pushed the woman up and her feet didn’t touch the floor anymore. “I **_dare_** you!”

“Let me go!”

“Apologise!”

“Elisabeth!”

A second later Lestrade and Sherlock got me off of her. She panted, and so did I.

“If you dare to call him like that again I swear you’ll lose your teeth! All of them!”

I tossed Sherlock’s arm away and spun on my heels to leave. They didn’t come after me.

 

After a quick shower, I was back on my bed. I wasn’t tired; my brain couldn’t rest. Here, nothing happened. John said Mycroft didn’t move the entire time. Same old, then. I was lying in my bed and I watched his peaceful, calm expression.

I couldn’t help but remember the doubt on Sherlock’s face when I came back from the mission. He sensed something was wrong. And if he sensed something was wrong, then… it means Mycroft will sense it as well.

I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed.

Everything I tried to do was in vain.

 

“How have you been?”

Mrs Holmes’s quiet question didn’t catch me off guard. I knew she’d start asking questions, but I wasn’t really in the mood to answer them. I was sitting on his bed’s edge again, and played with his fingers, as usual.

“I’m alright.”

I heard Sherlock snorted. But I didn’t care about that.

“Dear, we’ve been talking about this with Sherlock. We think maybe you should… you know. Get back to work?”

I looked up at her. And she must’ve seen the rejection on my face.

“I’m living in my boss’s hospital room. Where should I go back to work?”

She blinked at me, then looked at Sherlock. I glanced up at him and swallowed. So… he started **_thinking_**. And maybe he thought me being here was risky. I felt the blood rushed in my face. _How dared he?_ After all I’ve done for both of them?

“It’s been almost a month…”

“I’m well aware of that fact.”

“And you know, sometimes, when people spend longer time in coma…”

She didn’t finish, because the way I was staring at her must’ve been a bit… terrifying.

“I’m not leaving. And nobody can make me do it. I can be only removed if I’m dead. Are we clear?”

She smiled at me and got up from the chair. As she walked to me, I tensed up, but she only got a hold of my empty hand and squeezed it.

“Clear.”

I stared after her in disbelief as she left the room with Mr Holmes. Then I looked at my hand she squeezed. Why? What changed? My throat tightened. I felt Sherlock was still staring at me.

“So?” I asked him.

“So what?”

“What did you deduce?”

He stayed in silence for a long period of time. Then he started to pace up and down. I looked up at him and waited with a stoic expression.

“Does it matter to you?” He asked and I sighed.

“It does.”

“Why?”

“Because I do not wish to be surrounded with enemies.”

“I’m not your enemy, Elisabeth.”

I glanced down at Mycroft’s hand.

“Sentiment drives people to do the unthinkable.”

“I’m not driven by sentiment.”

“Hm… unless you think your brother is in danger.”

As I glanced up at him again, he seemed shocked.

“Why would you tell me anything?” He mused. “It’s your business, isn’t it?”

“It is. Entirely my business.”

“Does he know?”

Again, the lump in my throat.

“No.”

“Will you tell him?”

“ _God **no**!_ ” I let Mycroft’s hand back down on the bed and got to my feet. “I’d lose him the moment I… I can’t let… I don’t…”

I went silent. Sherlock stared in my eyes, intently, silently. I heard Mycroft’s machine’s beeps.

“I don’t think you’d lose him”, he said then, after a few minutes of silence.

“You know just as well as I do that he does not trust anyone who betrays him.”

“You didn’t betray him.”

I sniffed and started to chew on my lower lip, then I cracked my knuckles and started to pace up and down.

“Don’t tell him. Swear to me, Sherlock, please! Spare me.”

“How can you expect me to lie to him?”

I ran my fingers in my hair and nearly broke down.

“Show me mercy. Please!”

Sherlock sighed.

 

A few days later a doctor came in with a paper and checked Mycroft’s machine.

“There was something weird, the day when you had to leave, Ms Lone.” He said as he checked everything.

“Weird?” I echoed.

“Yes, his heartbeat fastened up a little just before you left.”

He showed me the paper and I realised he was right.

“Meaning?” I mumbled.

“Meaning that if you talked to him at that time, he probably heard you. Maybe he wasn’t aware of what you were saying, but he definitely heard you. He reacted.”

I glanced a the paper again and sighed.

“And what do I do with this information?”

The doctor smiled at me.

“Maybe read for him? Talk to him. That could help him come back.”

And so I did. I went out and bought a few newspapers, then I started to read them out to him. I didn’t think it was at all useful, but I wasn’t a doctor to decide otherwise.

The days went by in an agonising manner.

I started to give up hope. Maybe Mrs Holmes was right and I should move on. Maybe I should leave. But I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

“Look, Mycroft, what a beautiful day”, I mumbled as I opened the curtains in his room. The sun was shining down on me and it felt warm on my skin. The beeping sound felt like it became a bit faster. “The sun is shining, the people are going to work. It’s calm and quiet outside. Sherlock would hate it, but I often imagine us walking down that street, you know. I’d sip a warm latte and I’d have my arm around your right one.”

The beeps came after one another even faster, just a little bit. I sighed, sad. Talking to him wasn’t useful at all. _This wouldn’t bring him back and I kept talking to myself like an idiot._

“Sounds… lovely.”

The voice came from next to me, it was hoarse and quiet, but it was **_his_** voice.

I felt like my heart stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah I'm so excited!! What will happen? What will happen?? :DD The plot thickens!


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " **Liar!** "

I slowly turned and looked at him. His eyes were open and he stared at my face; they didn’t look as sharp as usual, but he was already analising my expression and attire. He wasn’t as fast as usual, he took more time examining me.

„My– Mycroft”, I mumbled and I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing.

„How long have I been out?” He mumbled and blinked a few times, rapidly, then finally looked away from my face and took in his surroundings. His brows furrowed slightly at my bed next to his. Then he noticed the growing pile of the newspapers – and I felt it actually looked pretty bad. I could imagine what went through his head. Then his eyes suddenly darted back at my face. I heard his pulse became faster. „How long?”

„Those are different types of newspapers”, I said, then walked to his bed and sat on the edge of it. He silently got a hold of my hand closest to his and his brows furrowed further. „I’ve brought a lot to read out to you. The doctor said it’d help.”

„Elisabeth, tell me.” His quiet, hoarse words made me slightly panic. He looked at me from under his eyelashes. „How long?”

I gently put his hand between both of mine and I applied a bit of pressure on it.

„Almost a month.”

Mycroft groaned. He rolled his eyes and glanced at the machine which kept beeping. Then he looked back at my face.

„You look like you’ve been working out.”

„I did.”

He furrowed his brows.

„Why?” At his question, I bit my lip. „Elisabeth, what happened?”

Tears gathered in my eyes. Then I leaned closer to him and kissed his lips. He breathed out through his nose and I heard the machine started to beat faster. I smiled when I pulled away. His pulse accelerated just because I kissed him. I felt so happy, now.

„I thought you’d never come back.”

He turned his head and he looked at the beeping machine again. Then he reached out and grabbed the cable which connected it to him and yanked it. Twice. It seemed he didn’t have his usual strength. Silence suddenly engulfed us as the cable got torn. He looked up at me and his face was as serious as if I just told him everything which happened in the past few weeks: the almost-murders, the mission and Moriarty.

„I need my phone and my laptop.”

„Mycroft, I think you should rest a bit.”

„Now.”

I kissed his forehead.

„Alright, love.”

„No, wait…”

I glanced down at him when I pulled away. He got a hold of my arm and I noticed a scratch I didn’t even notice before. Then I remembered: I got it when I rushed out of the house through the window. The wooden sill bruised my skin. Our eyes met again. I blushed – I felt like he caught me during a mischievous act.

„What is it?” I mumbled and he took a deep breath.

„You’ve been here during the four weeks if I can believe that.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. „I do not, let me tell you.”

„Mycroft, it’s just a bruise.”

„Why is there a bruise on your arm when you only did sit ups and push ups?” _How did he know this? **HOW??** _ „Why is there a bruise on your arm when you seemingly did nothing but sat here, reading newspapers to me?” His pupils dilated. I was afraid I had everything written on my face with glowing signs. „You’ve been _fighting_. And I’m almost entirely certain Sherlock has something to do with it.” I slightly panicked. And he must’ve seen this on my face. „ _Right._ Give me your phone.”

„Why?”

„Because I want him to come here as soon as possible.”

 **OH NO!** Did I really miss this? _Really??_

„No, I’ll call your mother first”, I pulled away and got up before he could grab my arm again. I watched him as he winced and I felt bad. „Does it hurt?”

„Your phone”, he grunted, „I need it.”

„Not yet.”

„Elisabeth…”

„You’ve been out for almost a month, the first person who deserves to know about it is your mother. And I’m not arguing about this with you!” I already got my phone out of my pocket and I quickly called her. When she picked up, I smiled. „He’s awake.”

„Really? How is he? Oh thank God!”

„Yes, he’s fine, though his wound still seems to hurt, he’s the same old.”

Mycroft grimaced. Mrs Holmes laughed.

„Is he giving you a hard time?”

„As usual.”

„We’ll pop in later.”

„We’ll be waiting!”

I ended the call. Then I called Sherlock. He picked up on the third ring.

"Moriarty started to rebuild his entire network which I managed to dismantle in two years. I don't trust you have good news for me."

I kept my eyes on Mycroft and carefully guarded my expression.

"He's awake."

Sherlock stayed in silence for a few moments.

"He's entitled to know" was all what Sherlock said.

I turned away and got to my feet.

"Sherlock, don't. Just come and see him."

He hung up. I sighed.

"I'll go and get your things", I mumbled without looking at Mycroft.

I picked up the papers and put them in his lap. They'd give him at least some information about what was going on in the world. When I wanted to move away, he grabbed my wrist. I glanced at his face. I still couldn't believe he was awake.

"Don't go", he said, quietly.

"Why?"

"I feel something is wrong."

I sat on the edge of his bed and gently stroked his face.

"There's nothing wrong now, that you're back." I saw his pupils dilated at my reply. I smiled at him. It was amazing to see his clever eyes again. I wanted to cry from joy. "I missed you so much."

He brought up a hand and touched my cheek. I leaned against his fingers and closed my eyes.

"You look exhausted", he whispered.

"I couldn't really sleep."

"Why?"

I looked at him again. I knew I'd need to give him little bits of information at first, slow, not to overwhelm him. While I was sure he'd be able to handle it, I didn't want him to feel guilty for something he couldn't control.

"I was worried for you."

"Then... then stay with me."

"I am needed to get your laptop and phone, remember?"

"Ah, well..." Mycroft smiled softly. Then he slipped his hand on my shoulder and pulled me gently closer to himself. "Maybe England can wait a few more hours for me."

I smiled and slowly made room for myself on his side — his uninjured side — and snuggled up to him. Mycroft wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

"And the doctors?" I whispered. "They need to know about your condition."

"Rest now, my love. The world can wait."

I felt the tears in my eyes again. I hid my face in his chest and sobbed.

"Elisabeth", he whispered as he ran his fingers in my hair. "Don't cry. You've been crying too often in the past few weeks."

"I'm just... so... so happy you're back..."

He soothed me until I stopped crying — that took me a while —, then I fell asleep rather quickly.

 

I’ve had the best sleep in a month. And I wasn’t exaggerating.

When I opened my eyes I saw Sherlock was there, sitting on the chair between Mycroft’s and my bed. I bit my lower lip when his eyes met mine and I moved a little bit. Mycroft still had one of his arms around me, his other hand rested on mine which was resting on his uninjured side.

I felt terrible. What if Sherlock talked to Mycroft about what he deduced from me during and after the mission? I was worried that he did. But when I pushed myself up to sit and my eyes met with Mycroft’s, he smiled at me.

So… maybe… maybe Sherlock did not tell him anything about…

„Sleep well?”

„Best in ages”, I mumbled and I kissed his forehead. „I’ll bring some food, you must be hungry.”

„You don’t have to hurry, dear.”

I smiled.

„Hush. Let me look after you, this time.”

I went and talked to a doctor who came in a bit later and talked a little with Mycroft about how he was feeling. But to our shock – and judging by Sherlock’s grin, he knew Mycroft would do this – he declared he’d leave the hospital as soon as possible. As Sherlock left I explained I wasn’t thrilled to realise he’d want to go back to work the very next day. His wound wasn’t completely healed. His physical condition still was delicate. But it wasn’t matter how I tried to persuade him, he was having none of it.

„I can’t rest, not now.”

„But why? Damnit, you’re a human, you need time!”

„I don’t have the luxury of having time! Not right now.”

I clenched my teeth.

„Mycroft—”

„Dear, let me decide, alright?” He seemed too serious when he talked to me. „I know what do I need. And I definitely can’t stay here right now. Not now when M…”

He cut off so abruptly it would’ve taken me a miracle not to notice it. I felt my pulse accelerated.

„When what?” I asked quietly and he sighed.

„Nothing, Elisabeth. It’s just a problem I need to deal with.”

„Your main problem is that you still need physiotherapy! Nothing can be more important than your health!”

„Well there are things more important than that!”

„Like what?!”

„Elisabeth, I’m not arguing with you—”

„Well you will! You’re not leaving this hospital if I have a say in it!”

His face darkened so quickly I felt faint fear arise in the pit of my gut.

„I hate to break it to you, but you do not have a say in it, Elisabeth.”

„Over my dead body”, I whispered to him and my words visibly upset him.

„I can’t rest!”

„Why?!”

„Because someone I thought I took care of is back.”

_Shit. He knew._

„I’m only asking you to stay for a week!” I desperately tried to bargain with him, but he wasn’t having any of it.

„No.”

„Mycroft, please…”

„I’m a grown up man and I can decide what do I need, thank you.”

„Goddamnit!” I shouted and shot to my feet. I started to pace up and down and I felt the need of punching something. „Why are you so damned stubborn?!”

„Because this is of national importance!”

„You told me the world could wait when I said I couldn’t rest until now, why can’t it wait when you need time, too?”

„I know exactly how much I can take from the pressure.”

„No, you don’t!”

„Come over here.”

His suddenly quiet words took me by surprise, but I stomped over to him angrily anyway. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down so forcefully his lips crashed against mine. I moaned. It felt so good. I missed his kisses so much, I didn’t even realise it until now. When he pulled away, I looked in his eyes and I saw how his anger melted away.

„You’ll be there to take care of me. And I swear to you”, he slipped a hand on my face, „I will be careful.”

Well, how could I say no to this? He was right I’d be there to take care of him, but I was still worried the wound would split and his lungs would be filled with his blood again. It was risky. How couldn’t he know?

Nevertheless, we were back at the office the next day. A few hours already passed by and people visited him often. Then there was a brief break before I received a call from him that I was needed in his office immediately. So I went. The file in front of Mycroft was closed. I silently closed the door and curiously looked at his face — but he refused to glance up. His eyes were set dead on the file.

"Sit."

My stomach nervously clenched when I heard his tone. My senses told me something was wrong. I walked closer to his desk, then sat without a word. Mycroft picked up the file and opened it; he leaned back and I spied a painful grimace on his face as he did so, if only for a moment. He still was in pain. Maybe I should persuade him to spend more time at home...

"So", his tone was rough. Not the usual softness hid in it when he talked to me. "Let's talk." When I said nothing, he finally looked at my face. "Speak."

I blinked at him.

"I don't understand..." I said quietly and he tossed the file, open, on his desk.

I couldn't see what was in it, but he never gave me chance to check it out. His fist was brought down angrily at the file. I shuddered.

"Well let's start at the beginning!" He shouted at me. My lips quivered and I felt like I started to shrink to the size of a penny. "A few years ago, after you completed your training, you went missing for a few weeks. Who were you with?"

I felt the blood immediately left my face. _No! **Oh no!**_

"I— don't... it's not—"

"Stop stuttering around!" His fist hit the desk again. I visibly shook and pressed myself against the chair. "Tell me what happened during those weeks. Right. Now!"

"Mycroft, pleas—"

" **TELL ME!!** "

His roar shook me again. I burst out in tears.

"I met... I met him..." I sniffed and wiped my tears away as I tried to get my thoughts together. Mycroft didn’t ask who I met – so he must’ve known the story already. "He said he'd solve my... my cousin's murder."

"And?"

"Mycroft, I beg you—"

"I only care about what happened, so speak! Are you deaf?!"

I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.

"He... he traced the killing order back to you... and he had proof..."

"And you believed him." He tossed the file in my way, I heard. I shook my head and continued sobbing. "You were here, **_all along,_** planning to take your revenge in the past few months, ever since you've been working for me. You made me believe I was safe around you so you could hit me unprepared..."

"No!" I cried out and looked up at him again. His expression shook me. He never looked at me with so much hatred. "I don't want to—"

" **Liar!** " He shouted and nearly jumped to his feet. His hand almost slapped the file between us. "You've been bringing things to work to murder me with! I've checked the records, I've seen it! You've been planning it for **_weeks!_** "

"But I didn’t do anything! I never hurt you! I saved your life so many times since then!" I tried to defend myself. "Mycroft, I—"

"You're the biggest liar I've ever had the unfortune to meet." I felt like I swallowed my tongue and ice cold water was poured down on my head. He didn't sound upset anymore, his voice was cold and detached. When I glanced at his face, he didn't look at me. "I don't want to see you anymore. Leave this building right now, before I change my mind. Get out of my sight. Now!"

"Love", I whimpered, "plea—"

" **OUT!! GET OUT!** "

He yelled at me like he never did before. I jumped to my feet and ran for the door. I tore it open and left it like that. I quickly ran for my bag, picked it up and ran down the stairs. I slowed down after a few steps and I continued crying when I heard someone was approaching me. I glanced at the security guard who immediately grabbed my arm and started to drag me out of the building.

I was tossed out like trash.

I sobbed and cried and tried to collect my thoughts. I was a mess inside and out. I tried to get my phone out of my bag and I searched for a name in my contacts. I called Mycroft. He declined my call. Five times. Then I called Sherlock. I continued sobbing and my tears couldn't stop falling — especially after long minutes, the detective didn't pick up either.

I called him again.

And again.

Then I realised he won't pick it up either.

 _What do I do? Where do I go?_ I started walking in the city, pointlessly. I felt like hours bypassed like this. Then I remembered my apartment and thus, I went there. I still had the keys in my bag and I always made sure I paid everything online. So I've had electricity, water and the like there.

I wasn't well. After I dropped my bag and sat on the edge of my bed, I started crying anew. I held my head in my hands and I let it all out, because I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything else.

He was right about a few things. I truly believed Moriarty. He seemed he had solid proof against Mycroft. And I truly _wanted_ to have my revenge.

Until I figured out Moriarty was lying.

As I worked for Mycroft I had limited access to some things. And when I started to work, I 'accidentally' checked things which should've been beyond my reach. I told him back then that it was a mistake and he believed me. I played stupid on a purpose.

And now, my little lies turned against me. And they crushed everything I've had.

Two hours later there was a knock on my door. I hurried to open it as I had my hopes high it'd be Mycroft to talk about this, but when I opened the door I realised I was looking at Phil. And he brought a few things with him. Ninnie, in her carrier. My bigger bag, packed full with my stuff.

I was shattered.

"Phil, please... please tell him it's just a misunderstanding..."

"He won't listen to me. I'm just his driver."

I sighed.

"Fine, then... then just do me something, alright?"

"What do you need?"

I moved like a robot and unlocked the bracelet, then gave it to Phil. Then I got my necklace off as well and gave that to him, too.

"Tell him… I thank him the memories."

Phil nodded and he was gone.


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Do show up. We have excellent coffee."

I've never felt so alone. I spent the day trying to send him messages everywhere to save it, but after a while, I couldn't reach him. The lines were dead, the texts and e-mails were thrown back like his number and e-mail address never existed.

He completely shut me out of his life.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

I received a letter the next day that I was fired.

Sherlock didn't pick up.

I tried to reach John, but he said he was working and he couldn't talk. The hours slowly ticked away. When I called him after 4pm, he said he was busy and he'd call me back.

He did not.

I started to wander in the city that evening. I've had no back up plans. I've had nothing.

I got my phone out of my pocket. I swallowed and glanced at the screen; what do I do now? A moment later it started to ring.

**Unknown number**

I picked it up and put it to my ear.

"Your head is in the middle of the crosshair. Do not do anything stupid."

I turned around and searched for a while. I could only hear his calm breathing.

"Just order them to shoot me, Jim."

"Have you fell out of Heaven's graces?" He laughed. My lips quivered and new tears gathered in my eyes. "Are you a fallen angel now, I wonder?"

"You manipulated and deceived me. Mycroft has a good heart, and I won't let you hurt him."

His laughter was louder, this time.

" _You_ won't _let_ me? That's so cute, Liz."

"Stop calling me like that!" I growled. "Order them to shoot me. Or I will hunt you down."

"Hunt me down?" Jim purred. "Maybe I'd even like it."

"You won't like it when I'll push a Desert Eagle's barrel down your throat", I threatened but he only laughed again.

"You could, Liz, you could. And then, what would you have?" His question was answered by my silence. He slowly, quietly breathed in the phone. "Let me answer this question to you. You'd have nothing. Not even your rage."

"It'd give me some joy to know you're truly dead."

"Maybe. Later, fallen angel."

I sighed as I lowered my hand and the phone in it. On my way to home I saw a paper in one of the cafeterias which was near my home.

**HELP WANTED**

I went home first, then quickly put my CV together, printed it nearby and walked back to the cafeteria. I left the paper there. I needed to do something with my time now, and I've had no better ideas.

That night, as I was preparing myself for bed — meaning: I cried again at how I was treated — my phone started ringing again. My heart clenched when I saw who called me.

"Good evening, Mrs Holmes", I sniffed, "how have you been?"

"I just talked to Mike." I smiled faintly at her reply. I still found it funny how she called him. Though, when I thought of him, I wanted to cry again. "What happened?"

"Nothing, we just..." I sniffed again, then new tears gathered in my eyes. "We broke up."

"What?! Why??"

"I made a mistake a few years back. And... and he found out."

"What sort of a mistake?"

I shut my eyes. Who cares if I screwed it all up, now? It seemed to me he won't let me back in his life, ever. I might as well tell his mother the truth.

"My cousin died during a mission and I was led to believe Mycroft was responsible for it. I wanted to have revenge..." The line was silent. I couldn't help it, I started to cry again. "But later I found out the truth that the order did not come from him. But that doesn't matter now. He believes I was only planning to kill him the moment he's not prepared for it. He shut me out, completely, and I can't do anything about it. I’ve tried to e-mail, text and call him, but the lines are dead."

For a few moments, she didn't say anything. Then she sighed.

"Dear, he had to go back to the hospital today."

"Why? Is he alright?" I asked, worried.

"His injury started to bleed again. He didn't tell this to anyone, first; he took plenty of painkillers to make it look like he’s fine." She was silent for a few moments. "He also had high fever, today. He was a bit delirious when he was brought in."

"Why tell me this?" I asked, devastated. "He won't let me visit him anymore. He won't let me close anymore."

"I'm telling this because once his head clears out he may realise how stupid he's been."

I laughed, shakily.

"I don't think he'd beg for my mercy. He even fired me."

"Fired you?!"

"Yes. Via letter."

"Well. I guess I'll have to talk to him, personally, again."

"Leave it..."

"I won't."

"Why?"

"Because I think you're doing him good. And I also suspect he's a bit paranoid, now. He must've received bad news after he came out of the hospital..."

I knew exactly what were those _'bad news'_.

"Leave it, Mrs Holmes. It's fine..."

"No, dear. It's not. And I'll make him realise that whatever happened in the past is behind you both."

 

The next morning I received a call from the cafeteria. They called me back for a personal interview at ten am. The boss was called Jon Loche, so I decided I'd definitely try and get this job. Meaning, I put all the efforts in my appearance to look perfect… for a man.

I put on a white blouse I ironed that morning. I chose the skirt Mycroft said was too short — he wouldn't care who'd see me in it anymore, right?... I sighed, sadly, as I applied my makeup. I enhanced my eyes under my glasses with some wild blue eyeshadow. I used some concealer for the dark circles under my eyes and a little black eyeliner. Overall, I thought I looked pretty good. I made a little bun on the top of my head — I wanted to look neat. Then I put a final touch: a bit of red lipstick and... and I unbuttoned the first two holes on my blouse.

I smiled at my reflection. Strange. I never felt the need to put on makeup or try to seduce while I worked for him. But today, it changes. And I also was able to look at myself in the mirror. _New record._

"I **_will_** have this job", I told myself, then threw my phone in my smaller black bag and left home.

The cafeteria already had some customers and I checked in to see the boss at the cashier. Ten seconds later, he arrived. He was a bit muscular, my height, brilliant blue eyed and he was a bit unshaven. His brown hair stood up in spikes, and while his stubble looked ginger, his hair seemed brown. Overall, he was handsome — but I didn't care.

"Good morning, Ms Lone", he offered a hand and I shook it with a confident smile.

_Scottish accent._

"Good morning, Mr Loche."

"Come in my office, please."

He turned and led me to where he came from and I followed him silently. We reached his office and he offered me a seat. The place was clean; he had a desk with a laptop and he seemed friendly enough to me.

"So, why do you want this job?" He asked as he leaned back in his seat and brought his hands together in his lap.

"I like to work with people", I replied with a gentle smile.

I brought my hands together, too, making sure my boobs were pushed together because of my arms. I didn't miss his half glance at my décolletage. He licked his lower lip. _Yes. I'm on the right track._

"I've seen you were a secretary until now. What makes you think you'd be able to handle a lot of orders at once?"

"I've had to keep in mind a lot of tight routines for months. I've had a schedule for every day and I never missed one thing."

 _Including my own latte,_ I thought to myself.

"Yes, I've seen your references. They're quite good." He glanced at a paper before him. Well, my CV, obviously. "What are your weaknesses?"

I tilted my head slightly.

"I'm way too tidy and too punctual."

Jon laughed a bit. His teeth were so white.

"Well, those doesn't sound weaknesses for me."

 _I know,_ I thought with a smile.

"Honestly, it can drive some people mad."

He cocked a brow at me.

"Why should I hire you?"

"Because I know what am I doing and I'm also good at what I do."

I may have imagined it, but his eyes had _that_ special glint in them.

„We’ll see. Come back tomorrow morning.”

„Really?”

„Yes. I’ll hire you for a trial shift.”

I smiled at him, happily.

„Thank you so much, Mr Loche!”

He cocked a brow.

„Jon, please.”

I was released shortly after. Finally, at least something good happened. I went home for that day and I cooked lunch, then – then I realised I was bored. I sat on my bed and opened my laptop. It felt like ages when I last had a chat with anyone online, so I powered up my messenger. I was devastated when I saw Mycroft’s name disappeared; it seemed he was very, very thorough. In the next moment, my stomach turned when I saw Sherrinford’s name. I deleted it right away… along with Scott’s.

A few minutes later, a name popped up. I arched a brow and remembered this – probably – man. IceVeins.

**Good evening, how have you been?**

I checked when we were talking. Ages ago.

_Hi. Right now? I’ve been better. How have you been?_

**Same here. I’ve been better. Still an office worker?**

_No. Waitress at a cafeteria._

**Hmm, sounds nice. When did you switch jobs?**

_Not too long ago._

**Where do you work?**

_Near my home._

**And where is that?**

I rolled my eyes. **_Men._**

_That’s a secret._

**Ah, I see. Why did you leave your job?**

_I didn’t want to leave. I was fired._

**Really? Why?**

I rubbed my face with my hand.

_Long story._

**I have all night.**

_I made a mistake._

**And?**

_I made a bigger one._

**...a bigger one?**

_The first mistake was that I believed a madman. The bigger mistake was that I... fell in love with my boss._

**Is it truly a mistake?**

I angrily grabbed the glasses and tore them off of my face, then put them on the nightstand.

_Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t feel so shitty that I’m away from him._

**Maybe he’ll realise he made some mistakes, too.**

_I doubt that. Sorry, I have to go now. Good day._

I didn’t wait for his reply, I closed my laptop, got to my feet and walked to my wardrobe to get dressed. When I was done with that, I decided I’d to go to the nearest gym – but I remembered someone I met there ages ago, and I wasn’t in the mood to meet with those memories. I sighed. I couldn’t stay home, the walls were suffocating me. So I left. And realised most of the places I visited made memories resurface anyway. Most of them were connected to Sherrinford, but I also bypassed the Ten Bells where I spent some time with Scott and Heath. I stopped before the bar and stared at its sign.

Why not? I furrowed my brows. Sherlock and John didn’t reply, I couldn’t reach Mycroft – who’s still in hospital, probably – so… why not? I shook my head a little then walked in the bar. Nothing changed. I walked up to the counter and asked for some red wine. There were some people, alright; talking, lingering, watching the telly on the wall. I decided I liked it here. The wine slowly numbed my brain – it’s been more than a month since I last had alcohol with Mycroft, and I obviously did not care if I got drunk.

So I sat there. For hours, alone. Sipping some sweet red wine, watching the people and I let my brain switch itself off. Around 7, I asked for a sandwich, which I ate, then I went home.

I woke up in my own bed, to my alarm. With a groan, I pushed myself up. A slight headache – not too bad, as I drank some good wine. I wasn’t in a particularly good mood, but I got ready for work, got two painkillers and left home in time. On my way I bought a croissant but it didn’t taste as good as the ones Mycroft gave me back at his home. _Well, suck it up,_ I thought.

The job absorbed me. I felt like I unknowingly glued my lips’ corners to my ears. The day bypassed quickly and I did everything just fine. I remembered the orders, I was as quick as I could, I smiled a lot and was polite even with the rude customers. Before I went home, I stopped at the Ten Bells again, where I ate a sandwich and then… I asked for the same red wine as the day before.

I liked my new routine.

Even though I knew that from the outside, it looked pretty bad.

 

I was followed. I was monitored. But which one of them sent their men after me? Moriarty... or Mycroft?

Which would be worse? What if both of them was watching me?

I regularly checked my home for cameras and bugs, and luckily, I found none. Yet. I thought it was just a matter of time.

My wounds on my arms healed slowly. I couldn't put on short sleeved blouses, not right now that I was a waitress at this cafeteria. Jon decided to give me a month of trial time, and I was actually glad. I've made a few plans if things turned out bad for me and something 'accidentally' happened. I bought a nice little knife online for self defense purposes — the little beast's name was Benchmade Bedlam and it was a black, 10 inch long monster when it was open. It was way too sharp of course; but I've had it hidden in my bag at all times. When I walked home, I had it up in my blouse's sleeve. Just in case.

Life as a waitress was tiring, but I was sort of glad I could have my mind on something else entirely than what happened in the near past. I enjoyed small talk when some of the guests wanted it and I also appreciated how tired I became at the end of the shifts.

I was walking to the Ten Bells again when my phone started to ring. I checked it – Unknown number. I picked it up. His breathing sent a shiver down my spine. I quickly walked down the street and decided I’d rather go home, now.

"I like... your... skirt."

I looked around.

"When will you show up?" I demanded. "You coward!"

"Not yet. But I'd **_looove_** to make you more... uncomfortable."

"You're not making me uncomfortable. I'm tired of your games."

"Tired? Hm, no. You always enjoyed it."

"Hah." I reached the house, went in, then got in the lift and punched my floor’s button. "You wish."

"I've seen you bought a Benchmade. Nice one."

My instincts were right. He **_did_** watch me. I wasn't safe at all.

"Well, you just remember this the next time you decide to threaten me."

"I've been wondering about visiting that cafeteria you're working at the moment", he purred.

"Do show up. We have excellent coffee."

"I'll reconsider it."

With a sigh, I put my phone away as he ended the call, then I opened the door of my apartment — and Sherlock was sitting at my kitchen table with a purring Ninnie in his lap. I froze.

"You locked the door back?" I asked as I closed the door.

"I didn't want to upset you", he scratched Ninnie's ears. "It could've been... bad, for my health."

"Hmm, fair point." I walked to the counter and put my bags down. "Do you want some tea?"

"Sure. But it looks like that you like something stronger than that, lately."

„Sherlock!” I groaned.

I put up the kettle to boil then made myself a sandwich. I offered him one from that, too, but he declined. I put everything he needed for his tea in front of him and I watched him prepare it for himself as I sat on the other chair with a glass of water.

"What brings you here?"

He leaned back and looked up at me.

"I talked to Mycroft."

"Good for you", I sighed and looked down at the glass in my hand.

"He's not well."

I didn't guard my expression, not this time. My face distorted with sadness.

"Is he still at the hospital? Mrs Holmes told me a few days ago his wound started bleeding again."

"Yes, to both. He couldn't believe you were right about his condition, though."

I leaned back in my chair.

"I know what a bullet does to the body, Sherlock."

There was a brief silence.

"He's still upset."

"I thought so."

"But I don't know how did he figure it out. I haven't told him anything."

I furrowed my brows.

"No? I thought it was you who hinted at it..."

And I was glad I didn’t punch him the moment I saw him, today.

"No." Ninnie jumped off of his lap and she walked over to her bowl to eat. I watched her and my heart felt a thousand times heavier. _Sherlock tried to help me, all along._ I appreciated it so much. "But someone sent him a file about it."

I pressed my lips together, firmly.

"Oh, that bastard..."

"Yes. That's what I thought. It must've been him. Though... I've been wondering... in the end, why didn't you, you know."

"Because I did some digging and realised he was lying", I sighed. "I learned during my training to never get information from only one source." I drank the last of my water. "Too late, isn't it."

"I wouldn't say that", Sherlock cocked a brow. "When I visited him, he was a bit high on morphine and he didn't want to stop talking about you."

"Probably how he'd kill me, right", I sighed.

"He misses you." At Sherlock's reply I shook my head and ran my fingers in my hair. "And he's also upset that you sent his gifts back."

"Why would I keep them?" I groaned as I got up and put my glass in the sink. "They remind me of him and he threw me out."

"But those were gifts and they're yours."

"Well I don't want them. It's painful to me to look at them."

"How's work?"

I furrowed my brows at his sudden change of the subject and crossed my arms on my chest.

"Good enough."

"Isn't it boring?"

"Tremendously."

Sherlock half grinned. His half grin totally looked like Mycroft’s…

"Mummy would like to see you, later today. Are you free?"

I ran my fingers in my hair.

"I am. Will she go to Baker Street?"

"No, I gave her your address."

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you think it would've been nice if you asked me first?"

"It would've been unnecessary."

_The bastard._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* Will this EVER resolve itself? This fic, I swear to you...  
> I also picture Jon Loche as James McAvoy for some reason? I mean HOW CAN YOU NOT??! <3 He plays maniacs in most movies I adore him in (Trance, Split), but can you blame me? *giggle* I swear I won't make him a maniac in this one. Cross my heart. Or... should I? ;) We'll see, haha!  
> 


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You do not know me either, sir."

„He still needs time.”

„I don’t really want him to start talking to me again.”

„Why?”

Mrs Holmes looked very comfortable in my little flat. Ninnie hid, of course – as she always does when a stranger comes to my home –, but she was watching the visitor from under the bed. I offered Mrs Holmes some tea and biscuits which she accepted. Now, I was a bit sad and upset.

„He sent me away in a rather rude fashion.”

„Dear, every couple has a bit of a falling out.”

I gave her a very _specific_ look.

„Our _’falling out’_ is made of real problems, not made up arguments about dirty dishes, Mrs Holmes. Like, me wanting to kill him, and the like.”

„And, then?” She cocked a brow. „What did you do? Did you hurt him, in any way?”

„Well, no…”

„With words or deeds?”

„No, but…”

„Then there’s no point in him pushing you away, is there?” When I didn’t reply, she smiled at me. „He always was the one who wanted to know everything about everything. It’s just hard for him to accept he simply can’t know some things.”

„It’s still more than that…” I tried to argue.

„Honestly: was it possible to you to hurt him back then, when you first met him?”

Her question made me wonder. I remembered the first day – he called me in for a personal interview and made me sit on the chair in front of his desk, then we talked some and… _oh **boy**._ The first impression was very intense for me. I bit my lower lip, because I knew the answer. _Honestly?_ I fell so hard for him I was sure I never would’ve been able to lay a finger on him, _that_ way. My rage? It flew right out of the window. Jim pointed me his way, alright. He told me exactly how to get close to him. But either him or me was prepared how I’d react meeting Mycroft personally. And it was the last thing any of us expected. Plus, when I found out about his innocence, all I truly cared about was to be _away_ from Jim.

„No”, I replied quietly as I sipped my tea. „But I think he doesn’t believe that to me.”

„Sherlock told me how you tried to help him come back when he was shot.” Her words made me feel worse, because I remembered, too. I remembered how still he was, how calm his face became, how I couldn’t feel his pulse and how he wasn’t breathing. „And that you brought him back again in the hospital. That tells me more than a thousand words, dear.” Mrs Holmes smiled when I looked at her. „And I also remember how you told me _’I can only be removed if I’m dead’_.”

I smiled faintly.

„So, do you think he’d… he’d be capable of forgiving me?”

„I don’t think he would.” Her reply felt devastating. I sighed. After all, everything was in vain? Mrs Holmes touched my hand and I looked up at her again. She beamed a smile at me. „ ** _I know_** he would.”

 

I froze when I saw who was sitting near the window. I should've expected this, sooner or later, really. ~~Honestly, I expected it to happen sooner.~~ He had his grey suit on with matching waistcoat and trousers and he was reading something on his phone. He actually looked amazing.

I hid behind the door and stared forward. What do I do? Charlotte wasn't here today; she was another waitress here and we usually ran the cafeteria together. She was a bit younger than me, she had beautiful face, blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes and she was a wonderful girl. But today, I had to serve all the customers alone. I knew he wouldn't go away unless he met me, I was sure of it. And I knew it wasn't an accident he showed up here... but why did he come? To mock me? To humiliate me? To break my heart more?

I steeled myself. **No!** I won't give him the satisfaction to see me cry again. **Never!** I straightened myself, checked out my attire — two last unbuttoned, slightly messy bun, nice makeup and no glasses —, then got my small notebook and pen and walked out with as much confidence as I could muster.

"Good morning, sir, what can I bring you today?"

My voice didn't shake, what a delight. I even could manage a smile. But I couldn't look in his eyes for long. I realised I hated now how he was scanning my expression and my outfit, so I started to draw a little smiley face in my notebook.

"Good morning."

His reply was quiet. Then silence. He cleared his throat and moments passed by. I stopped my doodle and glanced at his face. He seemed like he couldn't decide what he wanted to say, and when our eyes met, I felt electricity ran down my spine.

I missed his touch! I craved his lips! When he looked down on his phone again, with furrowed brows, I looked at his thin mouth — gosh how I wanted to bite it, kiss it, taste it! Will I ever have the chance to do that again?

"What do you suggest?" Mycroft looked up at me again.

I blinked. Slightly confused.

"That depends on what do you like, sir." I nodded to the menu we had at every single table.

"I'd like to have something..." He looked at my lips. **_He fucking looked at my lips._** "Sweet."

I swallowed. _Oh no. What do I do?_

"Our pancakes are really good, sir. Or our waffles; with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. They're really delicious."

He cocked a brow.

"Why are you doing this?"

His question caught me off guard.

"Why am I doing what, sir?"

"That you do not know me."

Cold stab. Right in my chest.

"Because I do not know you."

He narrowed his eyes.

"I should be the one saying this."

"That's right. You do not know me either, sir. We're strangers to one another."

That was what I wanted, at the moment. I wanted him to be no one. A stranger. Just another face in the crowd. But I couldn't just forget him like that. I terribly missed him. And it must've been visible on me because I wasn't fooling anyone here.

"Elisabeth..."

My ears burned. I didn't like he called me by my first name.

"Pancakes or waffles, sir?"

Mycroft sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Neither."

"Then I'll be back later, sir, as we have other customers, too..."

He lowered his hand and looked up at me again.

"I want conversation."

My throat tightened.

"I am working."

"I'm sure everyone can wait a few minutes."

"I'm still on trial shift and I don't want to get fired."

"Really?"

His question hurt a bit. It was true I stepped back in my career — I received far less money and I had to work a lot more, at least physically —, but I still felt like the way he asked back was rude. As if what I deemed important wasn't at all important to him. Of course, he knew what I was capable of; but I still didn't like how he asked back.

"Yes. Really."

He gave me a bit of time as he blinked, once.

"Alright. Then I'll be brief." He cleared his throat. "I wasn't really aware of my actions that day. You were right, my physical condition wasn't the best. I was upset — and because of the fever I could not control my emotions, could not think it through, could not see the big picture. The thought of your early intentions absorbed me." I listened, silently. For some reason, I didn't feel relieved, I started to feel angry. If only he listened to me and stayed in that blasted hospital! All of this never should've happened. "Please, Elisabeth, I'm sorry. Forgive me."

During these weeks I wanted to hear him say these words but now — now, the satisfaction and happiness didn't show up. I only felt pity. For him, for myself. And my brain, instead of registering the apology and trying to forgive (as I planned I would, mind you!), decided it wouldn't shut up about the circumstances he sent me away. A tiny voice started to rant in my head and it got louder.

_Why should I simply forgive him? Why not let him taste a bit of **my disappointment?** Does he think he can do **anything** with me? I literally killed myself to save his sorry ass and he threw me out like I was **garbage**! Serves him right! This was what he **wanted**! He deleted and banned me everywhere, he sent back my belongings and he didn't want me in his life for **weeks**! He could've called me, e-mailed me, texted me, but nooo. So why say sorry now?_

"Right." My voice was quiet and cold. "So, can I bring anything?"

My reply visibly confused him. If he tried to simulate in mind how I'd react, this definitely wasn't what he imagined. It wasn't what I imagined, either! But this boiling anger... this was real. I truly was disappointed in him, because he should've known better and he should've listened to me.

Maybe I can teach him a lesson through this.

"Did you hear what I was saying a moment before?"

This was so him. He expects things and people to work out in his favour. The way he imagined. So typical. Well, it was my turn to cause him disappointment.

"Yes, I did."

"And?"

"I decided I'll think about it."

He looked at me as if I slapped him. Twice. Hard.

" _Think_ about it?" He echoed.

 **Definitely** ** _not_** what he imagined. I glanced at my notebook. _Why this tone? Was it news I used to **think**? Does he really think now that I'd just jump back in his arms?! Like I had no honour?! Did he think I was thick? Did he think I'd just forget how he yelled at me?!_ This could go on forever if I didn't cut it now.

"So?"

When I glanced at his face again, he was gritting his teeth. Then he leaned back in his seat.

"Espresso. No sugar, no milk."

"Right."

I wrote it up, then went about my business. As I visited other tables I felt so free, careless and... light. I never thought it'd feel like this, but damn I felt amazing! I was a **strong** , **_independent_** woman who wouldn't dance as a man imagined she would! _I don't need to take his shit, doesn't matter how much I love him! I am not his plaything with which he can do anything!_ As I walked to his table and placed the coffee in front of him, he glanced up at me. I smiled at him, warm.

"Here's your coffee, sir", I told him softly.

There it was again. **_Confusion!_** I confused him!

"Thank you", he replied quietly. I turned to leave already when he spoke again. "When does your shift end?"

I stopped and looked back at him above my shoulder with a cocked brow. He was already sipping his espresso and his eyes never left mine.

"You already know, don't you?" I asked back.

There it was. His predatory half grin I loved so much. **_Damn this man!_**

"I thought it'd be fair to ask."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because maybe I'd like to ask you if you wanted to have dinner with me?"

I turned. I couldn't believe my ears.

"I can't."

"And why is that?"

"I'm busy."

His grin stretched wider. He knew I lied. He saw through me.

"Really?"

Again. _This_ word. _This_ tone.

"Yes, really."

"Busy doing what?"

I rolled my eyes and theatrically turned away.

"Not your business!"

Of course, he didn't go away. I collected various things — cups, plates, payment —, then after about twenty minutes, I wandered back to his table. I noticed he finished his espresso a while ago, but he was just watching me walk up and down. When I reached him, I smiled.

"Do you need anything else, sir?"

"Yes."

I got my small notebook and pen ready.

"How may I help?"

His eyes were so serious.

"He's keeping an eye on you."

It wasn't a question. And I knew he knew I was well aware of this fact. So why...?

"Yes. I know."

"You aren't safe alone, in your apartment."

I shifted my weight to one foot to the other and lowered the notebook. I looked in his clever, blue orbs.

"I've been safe for weeks."

"You know just as well as I do that a Benchmade won’t be enough against him."

I rolled my eyes.

"Mind your own business, will you?"

"No."

"Why?!" I snapped. "I can protect myself."

Mycroft sighed and shook his head.

"Elisabeth, _please_."

"Why care, anyway? You didn't, for a long while."

„Do you honestly think I’ve been just on holiday?”

„I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

„You do.”

„No, I don’t!” I snapped. „All I do know is that I’ve been waiting for you, **_for weeks,_** to pick up the damned phone and call me and you did not!”

„I wanted to apologise personally…”

„Why couldn’t you come sooner, then? If you could spy after me I’m sure you could’ve—”

„I’ve been at the hospital until today morning.” His quiet reply made me shut up. I huffed, angrily. „I’m sorry.”

„No, you’re not! You’re just trying to manipulate me again!”

He seemed half entertained and half ashamed. And slightly also innocent. Way too innocent…

„Manipulate you?”

„You’re always doing that to have everything your way!”

 „Elisabeth, please, let me explain.”

„No. I’m done for today.”

I walked back to the cashier, angrily billed an espresso and brought it back to him. When I placed the bill on the table, he gently got a hold of my hand. His touch sent another shot of electricity down my spine.

„Listen”, he whispered to me and I grumpily looked in his face. „I need you.”

„Ha-ha. I’m not falling for that.”

I tried to get my hand out of his grasp, to no avail. He had surprising strength.

„We need to lure him out before it’s too late.”

„Too late for what?”

„To stop him.”

„Why would I help you?” I snapped, but quietly. Even the walls had ears here. „You never wanted me in dangerous situations, why would I help you hunt down the most dangerous man that ever lived?”

„You just said the exact reason why do I need you with this.”

I stared at him and he stared right back at me. Then I gently slipped my hand out of his hold. There he was again, he just said this to get on my good side again.

„No.”

Mycroft looked slightly surprised.

„Why not?”

„Just because!”

I spun on my heels and walked to other tables to collect empty plates and cups again. When I glanced at his table again, he was finally gone. Of course, he left way too much money, which I put in the cash register. My calmness returned for the remainder of the day, but it vanished once I left work and I saw him waiting next to his usual black car. I clenched my teeth and started to walk away, but it didn’t take me too many steps to hear him talk to me already.

„Wait!”

Instead of waiting, I hurried my steps, but it wasn’t long before I felt his hand on my arm again. My right hand twitched on the handle of my steel baby, but I resisted the urge to threaten him with it. I stopped walking, theatrically glanced up at the sky.

„God, give me strength”, I mumbled more to myself than to him or anyone else. „Are you thick, Mr Holmes? Can’t you understand when a girl says no?”

„Her lips might say no but her _everything else_ screams yes.”

If I didn’t have a combat dagger in my hand, I would’ve slapped him across the face. But now, he got away with the nastiest look I could muster.

„What do you want?”

„Forgot already? I want to take you to dinner.”

„I don’t want to have dinner with you.”

„Oh, Elisabeth”, he smiled, „we both know this is a lie.”

„My hands are itching a lot right now”, I warned him and again, he looked entertained.

„Why, this time?”

„Well let me start with the fact that you didn’t listen to me, you didn’t stay in the hospital, then the way you yelled at me and how you treated me afterwards…” I slipped my hand out of his now gentle hold again. I shook my head as I looked up at him again. I forgot how tall he was compared to me. „Do you think I’d forgive you so easily?”

„Yes.”

His reply made me angry again.

„Well I won’t!” I grumbled. „I didn’t deserve at all what I got from you! Not even if you had fever or whatever. You were so mean with me!”

„You’re right. You didn’t deserve it”, he replied gently.

„You know how much I hate if people are yelling at me.”

„I know.”

„And you did!”

„Yes… and I said I’m sorry. Isn’t it enough?”

„Honestly? No, it’s not enough.”

„Why?”

„Because you can’t just treat me like that. Especially when you know how much I hate it. I cried. For days.”

He swallowed and again, he looked so ashamed.

„I know. But let me make it up to you! Please.” He got a hold of my hands, then raised them up and kissed my knuckles on both of my hands. I felt the closed dagger slipped up in my sleeve. „Let me.”

I clenched my teeth.

„A part of me wants to slap you”, I admitted.

„If it makes you feel better, then do it.”

I shook my head, then pulled my hands out of his hold.

„No.”

I walked home. And this time, he let me.


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> „I really don’t like you’re away from me.”

Avoiding him became harder than anything else in my life before. It seemed to me he was always around me – when I knew it wasn’t the truth. But he spent at least an hour every day in the cafeteria and he also bombed me with messages and e-mails.

I had to admit, I loved to be in the middle of his attention. I’ve been missing him very much and now I felt like he spent more time with me than before. This wasn’t really true, but we had more conversations online than before, when I worked for and lived with him.

**I’m at a meeting and I’m extremely bored. How’s your day? – M**

I read his message and I had to laugh. I was sipping my own latte at home – I’ve had a lazy day off. As I read his message again, I realised I wanted to make Mycroft squirm. I remembered our little games when he was at meetings and our current situation made it perfect for me to have some more ’revenge’. Just to tease him and make him uncomfortable.

So I put my latte down, then removed the third button from its hole and opened my blouse just a little bit more. As I was ready to go out and buy some things in the supermarket, I was fully dressed. Well, almost. I switched my camera to selfie mode. The grin I had on was way too cocky as I set the phone – showing off my decollétage, my lips and nose. The bra’s part, which ran under and between my breasts were visible. I made a selfie like that, making sure I bit my lower lip between my teeth as a final touch.

When I checked out the picture I felt a bit _slutty_ and I **_loved_** it! I attached the picture to my message which I typed up fast.

_I have a day off today and I am bored, too. Wanna play? – E_

I giggled to myself as I sent it, then the reply came fast.

**I do believe this does not help my situation. Now I want to leave this place even more. – M**

I laughed, then I made another selfie… with one of my hands pulling the blouse slightly open, revealing a bit more of my alabaster skin. I watched the picture and I was glad the wounds completely healed by now and they weren’t that visible.

_I like to imagine you’re tracing your warm fingers down from my neckline, between my breasts… – E_

**Do continue. – M**

_You wish. – E_

**Yes. Please. Continue! – M**

_No. – E_

**You’re the meanest woman on this planet.** **I'm certain y** **ou exist to torture me. – M**

_In a sense, yes. – E_

**Lunch? Please** **.** **– M**

_Why do you sound so desperate? – E_

**Because I am. I can’t go on for long, without you. – M**

I blinked at his words. This sounded so… romantic.

_Alright, fine. But that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything you say. – E_

**Of course, my Lady. I’ll be there in an hour. – M**

I slightly blushed at how he called me. I glanced at the clock. It was only ten.

_I’ll be waiting… impatiently… hungrily… – E_

**If you don’t want me to break down your door… – M**

_…who says I wouldn’t want it? – E_

**You just wrote you were still mad at me. – M**

_I am. – E_

**And then why would you want me to break down your door? – M**

_Hmm, because then I could push you against the wall and use your tie to tie you up until the police arrives to collect you, of course. – E_

**Your evilness knows no bounds. – M**

_I know enough ’bounds’ to know which one to use to completely immobilise you. <3 – E_

**What makes you think I’d let you? – M**

_What makes you think I’d need your cooperation? – E_

**You tease. – M**

_I’d only need to tie your wrists behind you, then I’d sit in your lap and ta-da! You’re not moving unless I want you to. Or better, unless I let you. – E_

**If you truly did all of that tying up business, sitting in my lap would be rather uncomfortable. – M**

I giggled to myself like an idiot.

_And why is that? – E_

**Guess. – M**

_You never seemed like you had problems with that before. – E_

**The only question is: when. – M**

_I don’t know, maybe when we spent whole nights snuggled up in your bed? – E_

**As you told me once, I’m a human, too. And I usually got up before you. – M**

_Oh. – E_

**:) – M**

_*gasps* You sent a smile face! – E_

**Does that surprise you? Why shouldn’t I? – M**

_I thought you wanted to keep your professional image until forever. – E_

**This is a personal chat. I allow myself to be less professional, don’t you think? – M**

_What a rebel. Do it again. – E_

**:) – M**

_It’s so cute. I imagine you smiling there, at that meeting. – E_

**I can’t. But I’m smiling inwardly. – M**

_Why must you always write M at the end of your messages? – E_

**I like it that it’s there. Maybe just to let my partner know they’re speaking with me. And just for the record, you do the same. – M**

_Because when I see your letter I want to put it there, too. Silly thing. And I know I’m speaking with you. – E_

**Except that one time when you sent me something rather… hot, online. – M**

I blushed scarlet.

_That was an accident. Would you please forget that? – E_

**Never. – M**

_Meanie! Why? – E_

**Because I like to think that’s what you really want to do with me. – M**

_Why are you so oblivious? – E_

**Oblivious? I’m never oblivious. – M**

_You are! You always seem to forget how much I want you. – E_

I put down my mug – I finished my coffee, and now I got up to put it in the sink. I got to my fridge and checked its contents; I realised, again, that I’d need to buy a few things for it. Maybe I still had time before he came for me. I looked at my phone when it buzzed.

**I don’t forget it. I just find it hard to believe. – M**

_*judgingly rolls eyes* Listen, I gotta go and buy some stuff. Ring me when you leave the office, please? – E_

**What do you need? – M**

_Don’t be silly, I’m not telling you, lest you ask one of your men to do it for me. Just ring me before you come, will you? – E_

**…you’re starting to read me too well. Alright. I’ll call in about 40 minutes. Stay safe. – M**

I got myself ready, then left home. As I walked down the street to the supermarket I kept thinking what should I do about us. I missed him terribly, but I still wanted him to know I wouldn’t just run back to him immediately, just because he asked me to. Besides, a little bit of distance wouldn’t hurt. I wandered up and down in the supermarket and put various veggies, fruits and meat in my cart, but when I stood in the line I felt my phone buzzed again. With a frown, I fished it out of my pocket and checked the message.

If I thought it was Mycroft, I was wrong.

**Don’t turn around. I want to enjoy the view.**

My heart jumped up in my throat. This didn’t sound like him at all – but it must’ve been him. I knew exactly who’d send me a message like this. So I typed a message back.

_I thought you’d reconsider showing up in the cafeteria._

After I sent it, I heard someone’s phone’s message sound went off. Directly behind me. The blood rushed in my veins. He was no coward, I knew, but it wasn’t really his favourite thing to do to contact people personally.

_~~And why did I obey to him?~~ _

I literally _heard_ how he tapped on his phone. I couldn’t believe this, he was standing right behind me and he took the pains of typing messages. I quickly stepped forward in the line, adrenaline rushing in my veins.

**You know I play by my own rules. And I wanted to see you personally.**

I snorted at his message, then put my phone away and started to place the things I wanted to buy on the conveyor belt. When I refused to answer, he hummed behind me. I quickly paid for my stuff which I threw in my Union Jack bag, then without any further comments, I left.

Of course, I heard his steps behind me. And my senses tingled. _~~Why I don’t want to turn around to see him? Because he told me not to?~~_ He was a dangerous man, but this only made me more conscious of my own body and what it was capable of. He knew I could simply kill him with one move, and he probably also knew I had my Benchmade Bedlam in my pocket. He wasn’t stupid.

But why should I attack if he wasn’t about to hurt me?

**_Yet…_ **

I went home and when I got to my door, I heard he walked past me. I looked after him; same height, black baseball hat, jeans, leather jacket. Totally ordinary. I swallowed and quickly made my way in my home.

He literally followed me home. I heard my phone buzzed again.

**Soon, we’ll talk.**

I swallowed nervously, then deleted the messages he sent me. I knew he would want to talk with me.

And I had a feeling I’d be in a very dangerous situation when that happens.

 

As I browsed the menu, I felt Mycroft was still looking at me.

"What is it?" I asked, without looking up.

"Why did you say yes to lunch, now?"

I arched a brow.

"Because it seemed to me you realised I do not do things just because you want me to."

"I've never wanted to change the way you're thinking or behaving, Elisabeth."

I looked up at him, my face saying  _'are you serious'_.

"No, you're often trying to do that."

"I'm cleverer than that."

I closed the menu and leaned back in my seat.

"You realise I'm still mad at you, don't you?"

He closed his own menu and put it down, too. Then he leaned forward, relied on his elbows and put his hands together before his mouth. He looked at me with the most innocent face he could muster.

"I'm aware of that. I'm still trying to figure out what should I do to fix... us."

I tilted my head slightly.

"You don't know what to do?"

I saw he smiled behind his hands.

"I may look like an expert at everything, but let me confess that I am not really good with, uh..." He paused. "Humans."

"Nonsense, you're working with them", I protested and he smiled, wider.

"The relationship I have with you, dear, is one of a kind for me."

I blinked a few times, slightly surprised.

"One of a kind?"

"I thought this was obvious."

"I thought you've had, you know, a few girlfriends before me."

Mycroft chuckled before he got his menu up in his hand again. He carefully avoided my eyes.

"No."

_Alright, I did not anticipate that._

"Never?"

"Even Sherlock is slow for me, can you imagine what ordinary people feel like?"

"I'm sorry, am I too slow for you?" I rolled my eyes. "Maybe you should try and date a professor or some genius or whatever..."

He glanced up at me with furrowed brows.

"Why?" He asked softly. I didn't reply, I was boiling silently. "I don't want anyone else, I want  _you_."

"Why?" I asked back and picked up my menu too, visibly pouting.

"Because you make me feel more alive than anyone and anything else." I didn't reply. He gave me a few moments of silence. "And I'd like to know you're safe and happy."

" ** _I am_**  safe and happy", I mumbled and he sighed.

"Safe and happy...  _with me_."

I smiled at this.

"So it's not pure selflessness talking from you."

"I told you that _ages ago_ , remember?"

He smiled, then lowered his menu again when our waiter arrived.

"What may I bring to you today?" He asked, flashing a friendly smile at me.

I ordered a glass of Port for now and Mycroft asked for the same. When our waiter brought our drinks, we placed our orders and he left, then Mycroft looked like he analysed me again.

"What?"

"Nothing, just..." He shrugged. "Alcohol."

I knew he was aware of the fact I've been drinking in the past few days. It'd be stupidity to deny it, I wouldn't fool him.

"I don't exactly need a clear mind every day."

„Given the fact a certain _someone_ approached you today, I’d say it’d be foolish if your mind wasn’t clear at all times.”

„I **_hate it_** that you’re spying after me”, I grumbled.

„I’m trying to protect you.”

„People die, even if you want or not, Mycroft.”

„Yes, they do.” He cocked a brow. „But I want you to stay alive for as long as possible and Jim, near **_anyone_** , _significantly_ shortens lifespans.”

I leaned back in my seat. As I stared at his face I realised there were so many things he didn’t know and I thought of how painful it would be to play this game with open cards. Then I took a deep breath.

„He’s pissed at me.” Mycroft didn’t say anything, just continued to look at me, silently. So I continued. „He gave me a task and I failed to carry it out, miserably.”

„Why did you fail your task?”

His question made me smile. In pain. Because he already knew what the task was and he purposefully didn’t ask.

„Because I fell in love with my target.” I shook my head and looked at my hands. „Funny thing, isn’t it? I was _perfect_ for the job. Agile, quiet, properly formed to his taste, fueled with passionate rage to have revenge. He extended my training, shaped me, and he made me even more dangerous than I actually was.” I furrowed my brows and looked back at Mycroft. „How is it possible I’m still alive, though?”

He didn’t say anything for a long while, then he cleared his throat. I saw he was thinking, his mind racing billion miles a second.

„He’s still in the planning phase.” His quiet reply made my skin crawl on my back. That did not sound good. „And we need to figure out his plans before he executes them.” He took a deep breath, then raised his glass and drank a bit from his wine. „I really don’t like you’re away from me.”

„I’m safe at my flat.”

„Well, your flat can be protected. I actually made preparations long ago to do that.” He smiled faintly at me when I rolled my eyes. „But that café…”

When he went silent, I sipped my own wine.

„The café’s fine.”

He furrowed his brows.

„No, it’s not really fine.”

I tilted my head.

„And why is that?”

„Loche.”

„What about him?”

„He’s not exactly what he claims to be.”

I furrowed my brows.

„And? Everyone has secrets.”

Mycroft’s expression darkened. He didn’t want to tell me, I saw, but he decided he would, anyway, it seemed.

„There’ve been various, violent murders, scattered around in the city.”

„Is he the culprit?”

„There’s no solid evidence that he was responsible for them.” He stayed silent for a few minutes, then he sipped his wine again, and looked down on my hand on the table. „But that’s the only logical explanation. Sherlock works on it, in fact; he just needs to find the proof.”

„If you know that he’s a murderer, why don’t you use your knowledge for that, then?”

He looked up in my eyes.

„Elisabeth, I’m a strategist, not a detective.”

„But you could change so many things in the world with your talents. You’re wasting yourself.”

At this, he smiled. But there was sadness in his eyes.

„I change many things in this world. And I’m not wasting my talents. I know of things which could cause another world war… and even worse… believe me when I say I do everything for this world I can.”

And in that moment, I saw. He let me see that his entire life’s work put so much responsibility on his shoulders that it nearly crushed him. I touched his hand which he rested on the table.

„But why not help Sherlock?”

„Because he wants to solve it on his own.” He sighed. „He’s always been… sensitive about his cases. I can only help if he specifically asks me to.”

„His stubbornness reminds me of _someone_ ”, I teased.

„Well, me with Sherlock aren’t half as stubborn as you are.”

„Pff, please.”

„Let me guess, you’ll not leave that café just because I told you this, right?”

„No, I won’t.”

He looked so upset for a split second.

„There you go.”

„How could I leave it? There’s another girl who works there with me.”

„I want you to care about _yourself_ , not anyone else.”

„I don’t look at people as numbers”, I glanced at the waiter when he brought our food. When the waiter left, I happily grabbed my fork and knife, I was _starving_. I didn’t even notice it until now. „Mmn, grilled veggies, yumm!”

Mycroft cocked a brow and smiled softly.

„If I wanted to be honest with anyone”, he mumbled as he slowly grabbed his own cutlery, „I’d say I love you the most when you’re eating.”

„Why?” I asked when I swallowed the ~~first~~ second mouthful of food.

„I’ve never seen anyone enjoying their meal this much.”

„I have a motto for eating.”

„What is your motto?” He smiled again.

„Any meal could be the last, so enjoy it to the fullest.”

At my reply, his smile faded. Because we both knew my words could be right one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll so enjoy the next chapter, a few ideas popped in my mind. :)  
> Sorry for the wait, I barely had time! Hope you liked it, though. <3


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "All is fair in love and war, dear."

"I really would like you to leave that place."

"You know I won't do things just because you ask me."

"Elisabeth, I can't guarantee your safety if you're there."

"I never asked you to guarantee it."

I had my glass refilled. Then I smiled when Mycroft sighed, tiredly. When our waiter came back, I stepped out of my little shoes and unnoticably moved my leg against Mycroft's under the table. Nobody saw it; the table-cover was way too long, and we were in a quiet, cozy little corner. But the way his eyes widened was worth it.

"Can I have dessert?" I asked the waiter who smiled down at me.

"Of course, what can I bring you?"

I slowly moved my foot up and down on his, making sure I gently traced my foot and toes up to his knees. With both feet, to both knees. I saw from the corner of my eyes he quickly picked up his glass.

"I'd like to have some pancakes, with nutella filling, is that possible?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

When the waiter walked away I saw Mycroft moved his left hand under the table. Then — he gently got a hold of my right foot.

"Naughty", he whispered and I grinned.

"Problem?"

I continued eating when he suddenly applied some pressure on my bare sole — and I moaned. It directly shot pleasure  ** _there_**  and it was actually funny  _he had no idea_.

"Ohh. Not fair", I whispered and he chuckled.

"All is fair in love and war, dear."

I closed my eyes instinctively as he started to gently rub my sole. I needed a few moments, especially when his thumb slowly started it's journey up and down, in the middle, then at the outer side of it.  ** _Holy shit!_**  He actually  **knew**  what he was doing! With circling motions, he applied some pressure on my heel, and I nearly fell under the table.

"Your poor foot, so stiff", he remarked and I realised I was as red as the grilled tomato slice I was about to eat. "Maybe I should massage it more often."

I felt like more saliva flooded my mouth all of sudden. I realised my evil plan backfired. Again.

"Hmm, maybe."

"What a shame you refuse my offers to stay with me."

I rolled my eyes and finished my food. My other foot still teased his leg.

"You really are mean today."

"Mean? Please. I'm merely granting your wishes."

" ** _My_**  wishes?" I laughed quietly.

"Certainly. If you didn't want this, you'd pull away. But we both know you enjoy this."

"Hmm..."

As a matter of fact, he was right. He switched to my other foot and I nearly melted again. While he was massaging me though, he watched my face.

"Is it good?" He asked with a smile.

"Guess", I sighed.

After a few minutes though, he stopped and released my feet. I put them back down with a sigh, and he got up with a rather pleased smirk on his face.

"I need a moment."

"In the restroom?" I cocked a brow.

"Yes", his smirk looked so amusing.

"Well, don't take long", I giggled as I got my glass in my hand.

"I don't think I will."

I giggled again and drank my wine, feeling a bit tipsy. Not drunk, but more free and happy. The waiter brought my pancakes and I started to eat them by the time he came back.

"You look satisfied", I teased when he sat down.

"Do I?" He cocked a brow at me.

"And much less stressed all of sudden."

"I refreshed myself in the restroom."

I stabbed my pancake, cut it, then ate a piece.

" _Refreshed_  yourself", I repeated, amused.

"How's the dessert?"

"It's very good, do you want to try?"

"No, thank you."

"Not hungry anymore?"

His smirk turned evil.

"I'm hungry for something else."

"Are you?"

I knew I shouldn't push this, because it'd backfire again, but I couldn't help it.

"Ah, yes."

"And what would you like to have?"

I nearly finished my pancakes.

"Your lips. Your chin. And neck." His calm replies made me hot and bothered. "And I also would like to kiss and gently bite your adorable, soft, tiny feet."

I felt my face started to burn and I  ** _swear_**  the place got hotter!  ** _Adorable, soft, tiny feet!_**  I quickly finished my pancakes as I imagined how his lips, hot breath, kisses and teeth would feel against my foot. I decided I wanted to try that. And I decided I'd also... love it.

"Hm, well..." I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth.

"You're so beautiful when your face is red like this", he remarked.

"Stop it."

"No."

I rolled my eyes. Our waiter returned and Mycroft asked for the bill. Then, of course, he didn't let me pay for my portion.

"What sort of a man would take you to lunch and let you pay for it?" He asked, and a shiver ran down my spine. At first I didn't know why, but after a few moments of thinking, I realised. I stared at my glass. "Elisabeth, are you alright? You went as pale as the snow."

 _Sherrinford._  Sherrinford let me pay for my meal when we went on that date. And Jim... Jim knew about Sherrinford. I glanced up at Mycroft and by that time, he seemed worried.

"I'll... I'll want to talk about something with you. Maybe tomorrow, in your office?"

He blinked a few times, then he nodded.

"Anything, anytime."

"Good." I cleared my throat then got to my feet. I got my bag on my shoulder. I tried to shrug the bad thoughts off. I smiled at him. "Thank you for the lunch."

"My pleasure", he returned my smile. "I'll take you home."

I nodded, with a smile, because I knew even if I did resist, he wouldn't listen to me. So we got out to his car which, of course, waited outside. I wondered when did he call Phil, but probably when he went out to have a break. I glanced at him when we sat next to each other in his car; we were closer now and there was no table between us. The air seemed to slowly fill up with electricity and I literally felt his body's warmth.

"Did you enjoy spending time with me?" He asked quietly.

"Couldn't you tell?" I teased lazily.

Mycroft flashed a small smile.

"You do remember I told you I liked to hear you say your thoughts."

I smiled back at him.

"I enjoyed spending time with you."

We quickly arrived at my apartment and he insisted he'd follow me right to my door. When we were there, I smiled up at him, wondering what did he want. Would he want to come in?

"Are you busy today?" I asked rather innocently, but there was no need, I blushed and he smiled immediately anyway.

"Regretfully, I have to go back to the office."

"So it's goodbye, then", I stated, again, way too innocently.

"Yes."

He seemed like he wasn't about to make the first move to do it properly, so I made a bold move and took his hands. Since it was rather warm outside, he didn't have his gloves on and his bare skin felt amazing against mine. I looked up in his eyes.

"Thank you for lunch."

"Don't mention it."

His eyes never left mine, but since he already told me he needed to leave, I decided I'd make it easier for him. So I stood a bit on my tiptoes and kissed his lips gently, closing my eyes as soon as our mouths touched. He hummed quietly and his hands squeezed mine. I breathed in his scent through my nose and then, suddenly – his hands slipped out of mine and they grabbed my waist on both sides and pushed me against my door. I moaned quietly as he deepened the kiss, my fingers travelled up on his waistcoat right to his neck, then to the back of his head where I ran them in his hair. I felt like he shuddered above me; my touch must've made him feel good and I happily reciprocated his eager kiss in turn. Mycroft held me, firm, his lips and tongue demanding and hot against mine and I felt like I melted.

I didn't want him to leave, of course. I wanted to have him in my bed now, instead. I gently tugged at his hair and he made another quiet noise in my mouth. We went on like this, for minutes, and I felt like he never wanted to stop. But of course, all good things come to an end and he pulled away after our small, fierce battle.

"Can I come in?" He asked and my eyebrows shot up on my forehead.

He surprised me. He sounded so eager and desperate, but I knew just as well as he did what would happen if I truly let him come in my flat. We both knew I should not let him do that.

"Please", he added quietly and kissed the tip of my nose.

"No", I mumbled, "I need to… to vacuum."

"No you don't."

It was hard to resist now that I felt his hot breath on my cheek.

"You need to go back to the office", I reminded him.

"I do whatever I want."

"Mycroft", I turned my head and he pulled away just a bit so he could look at me properly. "You need to go to work."

"Don't you want me to stay?"

I bit my lower lip. I wanted that, very much, yes. But for me, it was still early. And let's be honest, I wanted more time before that. Just to be sure he wouldn't shout at me again like that.

"Not now, darling. I'm sorry."

Mycroft sighed, visibly pained.

"Please", he almost begged.

"No."

He pulled a bit more away, and I half turned to unlock my door. Then I smiled and kissed him again.

"You're still mad", he pointed it out and I stroked his face.

"Have a nice day, love."

I opened the door, then disappeared behind it as quickly as I could, shutting him out.

 

As we agreed, I went to his office the next day to talk about what I needed to talk to him about. I wasn't watching who got in the lift with me. I was busy texting Mycroft.

**When will you get here? — M**

_I'm on my way. Just a few minutes. — E_

**Good. I'll feel better if you're here. — M**

The left corner of my lips travelled up. Then the lift suddenly stopped. The man who's been in here with me pressed the button. I cocked a brow; he was wearing a black leather jacket, under it, obviously a black hoodie — since it was up on his head.

Then, in the next moment, I dropped my bag, along with my phone.

Why?

Because he half turned and his fist was flying towards my stomach!

I grabbed then tossed his hand away with a grunt and my eyes immediately met his. There was no time for shock, however, my brain quickly came to its deductions.

This was Heath Griffith. Exactly the same face, build, even the clothes were similar to what he was wearing to Ten Bells.

This could  ** _NOT_**  be Heath. As he was shot in the head and Mycroft also showed me his grave, I was certain he was  ** _NOT_**  alive.

This could only mean Heath Griffith had a brother. A twin brother.

It only took me a moment to come to these deductions before he moved his leg next, towards my stomach. Naturally, I would've been able to get away without being kneed in the gut, but the last time I worked out and trained had been months ago. I felt tears in my eyes when I felt the incredible pain; he wasn't to be taken lightly, he was exceptionally strong. And the way he moved — he'd been trained.

"Wai—", I gasped as he grabbed my neck and tossed me against the wall of the lift.

Our eyes met again. That extreme hatred in his eyes couldn't mean anything good for me. I understood, in a mere second, what his intentions were and why he wanted to attack me. I've been good friends with this feeling.  **Revenge.**  I grabbed his arm as his fingers tightened around my neck and he lifted me up, pushed against the wall firmly.

"Wait!" My voice nearly got stuck, I barely could talk, he held me way too tight. He didn't reply. "I didn't— I didn't kill—"

"Liar!"

His shout was loud and I heard even their voices were similar. I was shattered inside.

"Ple— list..."

I couldn't talk. He applied more pressure.

"I've been waiting for this  ** _for months_** ", he growled as I was choking in his hold.  I've felt my Benchmark up in my sleeve, but I did not move to get it in my hand. The guilt I felt seeing this face was too great; I couldn't bear the thought of hurting him. "It's been hard to track you down, but I managed, in the end..."

I slowed my breathing and tried to get used to the feeling that I barely could get any air. My hold loosened on his arm.

"I'm... so... so... rry", I managed to whisper, but it didn't affect the pressure on my neck at all.

"I can imagine you are, right now", he spat at me.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang in the speaker.

"She has a Benchmark Bedlam hidden in her right sleeve. She could use it against you but she does not. Release her this instant or I'll order the guards to open the lift and shoot you."

His brows furrowed and he moved his left hand from my neck to check if what Mycroft said was true. And of course it was. My attacker stared up at my face and I could see he was doubting everything he saw, but his hold loosened a bit.

"She's not responsible for Heath's death", when Mycroft said this, tears flooded my eyes. I  ** _was_**  responsible for it. If I never met him, he'd still be alive. "But she still feels guilty she couldn't save him. Let her go."

The fingers loosened loosened more. He slowly let me descend on the ground again and I put my hands up in surrender.

"Is it true?"

I tried to catch my breath.

"Yes", I replied, voice hoarse. "I couldn't... I tried to save him..."

"Why did he have to die?!"

He raised his voice and I whimpered. He was too strong compared to me.

"I don't know", I replied quietly. "I'm so sorry for your loss. He was a good man, he didn't deserve to die..."

The lift started to move again. And I slightly panicked. I was sure Mycroft was pissed. And when he was pissed, well... it could be bad for this man's health. I couldn't look away from his face.

"Let me explain. Please, let's just talk."

I saw he gritted his teeth. Then he let me go. I picked up my stuff, then stood at the door. He cleared his throat and he glanced back at me; he handed me my knife. I accepted it and put it in my bag. We reached Mycroft's floor and when the door opened, I moved between the exit and the man. Of course, Mycroft stood nearest — and armed men around him, with their guns pointed right at us. Or rather, at him. But now, he was behind me.

"Move aside", Mycroft ordered me, but I didn't budge.

"Please, let's talk."

"Move!" He snapped.

"No!" I snapped right back. He looked surprised for a moment. "He's been misled. Like me!"

"Are you sure?"

I bit my lip.

"Instinct."

I saw it on his face he was thinking at the speed of light. Then, he sighed, and I knew, why. He told me ages ago:  _I trust your instincts._  (Though, it was true, he told me this when I reassured him that Sherrinford wasn't dangerous; I tried not to remember this now.)

"Fine. At ease." At his words, the armed men lowered their guns. "My office. Now."

They let us through. I was still massaging my throat when we got in his office.

"Sit", Mycroft tossed the word at our 'guest'. At this, the man looked at me, then huffed as he dropped himself on one of the chairs. "Elisabeth, would you?" He asked quietly and I knew, I felt he was worried for me.

"Of course."

I walked to the other chair and sat, too. Mycroft chose his own chair, then stared at our guest.

"Who are you?" Mycroft inquired.

"I should be the one asking questions", the man grumbled.

Mycroft did  ** _not_**  look pleased.

"You're sitting in Mycroft Holmes's office who has enough power to wipe you out like you didn't even exist. At the moment, you're a free man who can explain himself because I trust her." Mycroft nodded at me. I felt warmth in the pit of my gut. He really trusted me and I loved him for it. "But don't think for a second you're allowed to leave this place alive if I don't want that to happen."

The man seemed surprised.

" _Mycroft Holmes?_ "

"Yes."

The man sighed.

"Then I truly have no choice, do I?" He smiled faintly. It seemed to me he heard about Mycroft, and it was a good thing. He vaguely had an idea about his power. "I am Noah Griffith. Heath was my brother. I wanted revenge."

I swallowed as my eyes met with Mycroft's and he nodded a bit at me so I knew I was allowed to talk.

"And someone found you, right?" I asked and he glanced at me, then he nodded. "Someone contacted you and promised he'd find the one who's responsible for his death."

"Yes." Noah furrowed his brows.

"And somehow, you received a file which was so detailed you believed everything from it."

As I spoke, I felt my stomach clenched.

"Yes."

"You've received pictures, names, addresses..."

"How do you know?"

I noticed he started to turn to me.

"Was there a name to these whispers?" I pushed it. "Does the man in the shadows have a name?"

I knew the answer already. And Mycroft knew, too, I felt.

"Moriarty."


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I should go to a therapist again...

I laughed quietly. Then put my hand on my throat.

"He misled you. Just as he misled me, ages ago."

"Why?"

"To try and kill me."

"Why would he?"

I shrugged.

"I'm probably in his way."

Noah looked puzzled.

"You... so, you didn't kill Heath?"

His question shattered me.

"No." I whispered and looked at my hands. "I've tried to save him. But I couldn't. I'm sorry."

"Who killed him, then?"

I glanced at Mycroft. He didn't say anything, just stared at Noah, then his eyes moved to look at me. When our eyes met I knew I mustn't talk about Sherrinford; especially not that he was alive, locked up, and that he was Mycroft's brother. So I made up a lie, quickly.

"It doesn't matter." At my reply, Noah looked upset again. "Trust me."

"Well I want to know!"

I sighed, then rubbed my throat.

"A man, who kidnapped me after he killed Heath and my friend named Scott. He kept me locked up and tortured me for 5 months. I could escape. And I killed him."

I saw from the corner of my eyes that Mycroft stiffened up. I hoped he knew just as well as I did why I left out that Sherrinford was still alive. Noah probably wouldn't rest until he was truly dead.

"What was his name?"

"I'm not telling you. He's dead. Find peace in that."

"Why would I trust you?"

I leaned back in my seat, then rolled my sleeves up. I saw he noticed the long, straight scars on my arms.

"I've been to Hell and back because of him. I made sure he wouldn't do the same to anyone else. And I don't really care if you trust me or not. Heath's been avenged. Period."

He leaned back in his seat as well and glanced back in my eyes again. He was thinking for a few seconds.

"How did you meet him?"

I swallowed nervously. I didn't want to revisit that period of my life, but I knew I had to. Maybe he was testing if I was telling the truth.

"I went home from work that day, grabbed my stuff and left for the gym near my home. I was punching a bag and he was using a bicycle. Then he asked me if I wanted to have a drink and I said yes." I looked at my hands. "We went to the Ten Bells, and he... he was telling terrible jokes just... just to make me laugh."

Noah hummed.

"Yeah, he had a vast collection of shitty jokes."

His comment sounded so loving and it made talking harder for me. I felt like he was suffocating me again. My throat was as tight as a drum.

"I had to leave him there after a few drinks. That was when I last saw him, unharmed."

"And how did he exactly die?"

I shuddered at his question. Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Given the fact Elisabeth suffered severe PTSD after the events and she couldn't completely recover yet, I'd like to ask you not to ask more questions concerning these memories."

I chewed on my lower lip. I didn't argue, because he was right. Yes, I've had PTSD and I couldn't completely recover from it. I drank wine to be able to fall asleep, I've been paranoid, I've had nightmares. Maybe I should go to a therapist again...

"No, it's... I think it's fine."

"I don't think it'd be a good idea to bring that back." Mycroft told me gently, then he sighed. "But it's your choice."

I nodded. I really appreciated his words and support.

"I was on a mission." I smiled faintly. "I'm a secret agent, you see. I had to retrieve a laptop. There was a room... in the middle of it, bulletproof glass. Heath and Scott were on one side of it, I was on the other. The door was locked as soon as I stepped in, and they..." I examined my nails again. For a few moments. I wasn't prepared it'd hurt so much. It happened ages ago, when would it stop haunting me? "They were bound to two chairs. They were beaten... perhaps even starved. That madman then killed them and I had to watch him doing it. I was powerless." I didn't realise my hands started to shake. When I noticed and looked down, my sight was foggy. _Tears? Again?_ I blinked, then stood up as quick as I could. "I'll… I'll bring… some tea…"

The old habits kicked in. I've been in this office so many times, crying helplessly. I wanted to escape from here, this time, again. I left the room as quickly as I could and closed the door behind myself. The counter on the other side of the corridor seemed to be hundreds of meters away. I took a few steps. Then broke out in an ugly sob. I hid my face in my hands and let it go, the faces of Scott and Heath lingering behind my tightly closed eyelids. I didn't hear the door opened and closed quietly behind me again. I only felt the well-known cologne around me and a familiar pair of arms, which locked tightly around me in a hug.

"Don't", I mumbled between my sobs, "I don't… want you to… to… see me… like this…"

"Come on, Elisabeth", Mycroft whispered in my ear. "You know well I will not leave you when you need me the most." I moved at this, grabbed his suit tightly and buried my face in his shoulder. He stroked my head over and over again. "Why do you think I'd leave you to mourn on your own, darling?" He whispered in my ear. I sniffed and didn't reply. "You've suffered alone for too long."

"I am strong", I protested and he stroked my head again.

"Yes. You are. You're stronger than anyone I know. But you need time to heal. You need to be told over and over again that it wasn't your fault."

I broke out in a sob again.

"He's so… so upset… at me… he nearly… nearly…"

Mycroft pulled a little bit away and stroked the tears off of my face. Then he took a look at my throat, stroking that, too.

"Yes, he nearly did." I saw he clenched his teeth. "Your neck is already bruising."

"He's stronger than he looks", I swallowed, my throat still sore.

"Well… he's with MI6, he has to be."

I stared up in his eyes.

"How do you know that?" My question visibly caught him off guard. I felt like my sadness started to shift into something else. "When did you…?"

I left my question hung in the air between us. Mycroft suddenly looked a bit tense.

"Don't be upset…"

"Since when do you know?"

"Elisabeth…" He let me go and I lowered my arms, my hands in fists. My tone probably already made him reconsider the shortness of the space between us. "I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I've had no idea he'd personally come here. He's been tracking you for a while. But it only came to my attention yesterday."

My lips quivered. Not out of sadness, but rage.

" ** _You knew_** he'd attack me." It wasn't a question, it was a fact, stated almost coldly. I took a step back. I smiled faintly, but that smile seemed to make him even more tense. "You did it again. I was in danger and you **_didn't tell me._** "

"Elisabeth—"

"You held back information from me again."

"I didn't take it into account how desperate he is. According to the data I've received on him, I calculated he'd strike… later."

 ** _Strike later._** Fury painted my face crimson.

"You _calculated!!_ " I nearly shouted. Mycroft seemed upset and also a bit confused by my reaction. " ** _Are you a fucking calculator?!_** Is this what you always do, you think of me as a number, like I was some sort of replacable thing—"

"No", he tried to argue, but his tone was soft and quiet, "I'd never think of you like that…"

"Why didn't you tell me I was in danger?!"

At first, I didn't notice how my voice changed and how he seemed to shift backwards from me. Was he afraid? Well he had every reason to be.

"I didn't want to upset you…"

"Do you know what upsets me? Do you know, Mycroft?? That you think I'm a child, a stupid little insect who doesn't understand anything from what you say!! That's what upsets me!"

"Elisabeth, I wanted to take care of him myself, I wanted to protect you without making you have to step in the front line again…"

"And what good did I ever receive from that?! I got attacked and I was unprepared for it, **_again!_** If he got me around my flat where you wouldn't be able to talk to him through the speakers, he would've killed me and I would've let him!"

"But he didn't get to you there and I also monitored you—"

"I don't give a fuck about that! I could've **DIED!** Do you want that?!"

"Of course I don—"

"That's it, I'm done."

I spun on my heels and wanted to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Elisabeth, please—"

"Please what?! Listen to you?! Well I'm done with that, it's too late for you to explain anything!"

"Don't be such a child."

It happened before even I could prevent it from happening. His slightly mocking and upset tone moved my arm, and the palm of my right hand landed a painfully loud and hard slap across his left cheek. He released me instantly. I faintly registered he shifted backwards again. I angrily stared at his face for a few seconds before I turned and started to walk away, down the stairs, through the hall and out the door.

He didn't do anything to stop me.

 

I realised much later I never even told him that Jim knew about Sherrinford. But in the end, it didn't even matter. I went back to my flat and continued boiling for hours; I tried to make this anger useful, so I cleaned my flat. As I cleaned the windows I couldn't help but see all the fucking CCTV cameras around my home, some of them pointed right at my flat's windows, and I had an urgent need to flash all of my middle fingers to them.

Gladly, though, I was not a child as he said.

The next day I prepared myself for work – I had to put a soft scarf around my bruised neck to hide it. And, of course, I remembered suddenly what did he told me about Loche. To my surprise, he asked me to go in his office first thing in the morning and he told me he was pleased with my efforts and he thought he'd already tell me I was a fine addition to this café, so he wanted me to stay.

Wonderful news. I could keep a close watch on him.

Mycroft didn't show up in the café that day. I started to slightly feel bad, but when I remembered again how he didn't tell me anything when we spent an entire evening together, I started to get angry again.

Then Noah turned up, just before my shift ended.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him and he smiled up at me ~~with his stupid attractive face~~ as he sat at one of the tables.

"Good day to you too."

"Come on, Noah, I don't have time to chat."

"Your shift ends in five minutes, right?"

I arched a brow. High. I didn't ask how did he know.

"Why?"

"I was thinking maybe you would like to train with me a bit."

If it was possible, my brow went even higher.

"Why would I?"

"Dunno, maybe you thought you needed a bit of training." He leaned back and his soft smile turned into a grin. "No offence, but you're as soft as a marshmallow."

I almost snorted.

"He won't like it if you're around me."

"He told me to ask you."

**_What._ **

"He did?"

"Yeah. He said you might like the idea."

I sighed.

"Do you want a coffee?"

He blinked up at me and another smile was playing around the corners of his lips.

"Is that an invitation?"

**_Oh God._ ** _Oh God, no._

"This is a fucking **_café_** , Noah, and I work here."

"Ah, right." There it was again, the grin. The bastard was teasing me. He _teased_ me! And it was _refreshing_. "A latte, please? Two sugars."

"Right."

"Thank you."

I wrote it up, then walked back to the counter and made him his coffee. There was no one else around the café at that time, people knew we'd close soon, so I walked back to him and gave him the latte.

"There you go, _sir_ ", I teased him and he grinned again.

"I misjudged you."

"Yes, you did."

I turned around and started to gather the things which were needed to close the café. Usually I did this with Charlotte, but she had a day off today. When I was almost done, Noah called me over to him with a wave of his hand. When I walked over to his table, he motioned me to sit. So I did.

"So, since I think this place is bugged", he sipped his latte, "let's talk about what do you know about Moriarty."

I leaned back in the chair and sighed. Sure, he was right. Talking about anything here is just as safe as anywhere else.

"If you were unfortunate enough to cross paths with him, you know just as well as I do you can only escape his grasp if you die. Other than that, not much. We're both on his naughty list, now."

"Why did he want me to kill you?"

I blinked at him, slow, reconsidering how much should I tell him, but given the fact he was with a secret service just as me, I figured he had a good sense to pick up… _lies._

"I've failed him, Noah. On so many levels. He's disappointed in me. I betrayed his trust. Isn't that enough?"

He tilted his head a bit.

"So why don't you want some of that protection?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Too many people died for me, instead of me. Just imagine that. They're gone, they're not feeling pain anymore, but I see them every fucking night and…" I cut off and swallowed nervously, then shook my head and looked out of the window. "I want to be on my own. I don't need anyone, only myself."

"Worry not, I won't jump in front of a bullet for you."

I looked at him again, just when he sipped his latte again, and I saw he was, once more, smiling like an idiot. Honestly? I liked him. Talking with him was much more simpler than talking to Mycroft.

"Good, glad we straightened that out."

As I watched him drinking his latte I've had another thought on my mind. How much he resembled his brother, his tone, his expressions, his… _eyes_. I tried to stop myself from telling him over and over again how sorry I felt; and even if I wanted to tell, I didn't know how to put it into words. I was right. Those who died felt pain no more, they had no idea about the hardships of the living, but here I was, left alone with my misery, and _this_ face – this man exists here to torture me. And he's suffering because of me, too. He maybe accepted the facts I did not hurt his brother at all, he was maybe filled in with information by Mycroft – he could show Noah CCTV camera records, dates and the circumstances of the mission, but he still saw the guilt on my face every time he looked at me. Would this ever leave me? Would I ever be able to escape from it?

"So, now", he put his empty mug down, "do you want to train a bit?"

I blinked, tiredly. I've had a long and tiring shift today. So I shook my head and he looked slightly disappointed.

"I need something else."

"And can I help with that?"

 _So **painful**._ He didn't make it any easier for me. He didn't simply realise the truths, he was _friendly_ towards me. Maybe it hurt even more than when he tried to beat me to a pulp. Maybe it hurt more than my throat he strangled so hard yesterday.

"I need a drink."

Noah cocked a brow.

"Sure. Right. And do you want company?"

I felt like I was cornered. I didn't want to – Moriarty would know, he'd put Noah on a list with which he could hurt me, strike back at me, to use him against me. Mycroft would know, too, and he would be probably disappointed in me… what if he thought I wanted to date Noah, now? Which, of course, I didn't want at all. My agony was too great when I looked at his face. I wouldn't be able to. And I still loved Mycroft. I didn't realise my face reflected my emotions.

"Hey, it's alright. Just say no."

I suddenly got up.

"I'll be back", I mumbled as I picked up his mug and walked back to where the small kitchen was. I quickly cleaned the mug and sobbed quietly, trying to desperately get rid of the tears in my eyes. At least, no one was here to interrupt me and I could quickly recover from it. With a sigh, I straightened my clothes, walked back to the cashier's, closed everything down, then got my bag up and walked back to Noah. "We can go."

"Are you sure?"

I nearly laughed in his face. **_Sure?_** I wasn't sure in anything. I only knew I've had more torture ahead, and that I'd regret what I'm about to do tonight, even if we only drank and talked a bit.

But I needed it. More than anything else. I needed to switch myself down. So to Hell with caution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I laughed so hard when I wrote "are you a fucking calculator??", hahaha, I couldn't help myself. XD  
> Maybe I should upload my post-apocalyptic veeery 'original' fanfic which has tons of Heath (OC based on Kit Harington) in it (it also has a character named Great Leader and I picture him as Mycroft LOL)... *groans* Ah yeah. I'm a Kit Harington maniac, if you couldn't tell. Geez that man! I love him, he's so humble and nice and- *rolls around* Too bad they didn't get a scene together with Mr Gatiss in Gunpowder! I sooo wanted that to happen. :P


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The game is on!_

We walked down the street silently. He looked calm, but I wasn't sure what he was thinking. His face gave away nothing.

"Why are you looking at me so often?" He grumbled in an almost playful tone and I sighed.

"You _know_ why."

I saw from the corner of my eyes he slipped his hands in his pockets and another smile played around his lips.

"We always played tricks on our mother", he said softly. "We had the same clothes on and whined that our mother couldn't tell us apart. Of course, it was difficult as we really looked alike..." His voice trailed off and his steps slowed down. I joined him and stayed silent. My heart sunk. **_Their_** mother. _Now she was only Noah's._ "Is this pub good?"

Fortunately, it wasn't the Ten Bells. I was fine with anything if it wasn't the Ten Bells.

"Sure."

We entered and found ourselves a quiet corner.

"What would you like?" He asked me as I dropped my butt on a seat.

"Red wine, please."

"Okay."

It took him a few minutes to get back with our drinks. I sipped my wine and watched how he drinked from his own pint of beer. He smiled at me when he lowered his glass.

"Thanks", I mumbled.

"Funny thing, isn't it?"

"What is?"

He reached to me above the table and gently removed my scarf. I let him. His eyes wandered on my bruises.

"I'm trying to kill you one day, then take you out to have drinks with me on the next."

"Well, it's a start of a beautiful friendship, isn't it", I raised my glass for him and he laughed quietly.

"Friendship..." His voice trailed off again and he looked away from our table to check other people. "Ever wonder, though? What would it be like, to have a normal life?"

I sipped my wine.

"I **_have_** a normal life", I protested and he looked back at me.

How could he have the exactly same warm, chocolate brown eyes as Heath?

"You're trying to look like you do", he nodded, "but it's visible you're incredibly, hmm, bored."

I blinked at him.

"Am I?"

As I sipped my wine again, he leaned forward.

"Why did you leave, you know?"

"Yesterday?" I cocked a brow.

"From MI6."

I sighed.

"You know why."

"I want to hear you say it."

I sipped more from my wine. I was halfway done with it.

"I want to stay alive."

"I've read your file. You were great."

"Oh God..."

_Another man who spies on me, this is just fucking great!_

"No, really." At my expression, he laughed. I rolled my eyes. "You **_aced_** the training with a maximum score. Why not come back to the field?"

I destroyed the rest of my drink in a second. He watched me as I got up.

"I'll bring myself another."

I didn't wait for his reply. I walked to the counter and paid for the same wine, then walked back to him. As I sat down, he examined my face.

"I don't trust... people", I admitted.

"I've read you hate to work in groups."

"Yes."

Noah smirked.

"But do you hate to work in pairs, too?"

I bit my lower lip. Was he hinting at what I was _thinking_ he was hinting at? I watched him drink and I did the same.

"I've never tried."

"Maybe it's time to."

" ** _Don't_** tempt me."

Noah leaned closer.

"Am I tempting you, then?"

"Yes. You do. And I don't like it."

"Why?"

"I told you. Because I want to stay alive."

"What is life if you live it locked up in your flat?"

I was dangerously close to finish my second wine. His glass was half empty only.

"I've seen a lot of bad stuff", I protested, "and I don't want to see more."

"You don't have problems with missions, I know. You're quick and swift and—"

"Noah", I interrupted him, desperately, "I don't want your death to fuck with my conscience, and it's final. Do you know how do I spend the nights at my flat? I can't sleep more than a few hours before I wake up to my own screams, covered in tears and sweat. I watch their brains being blown to nothing over and over again and no therapist can make it any better." I drank the last of my wine. "It's my fault. There, I said it."

"It's not", he protested softly, but I got to my feet with my glass.

"If Scott never dated me, he'd still be alive. If Heath never took me to a pub like you did, now, he'd still be alive. And there's a high chance you'll end up dead just because you came here with me and I won't be able to do anything against it. So, your face will join me in my nightmares, sooner or later. Now. I'll bring myself another wine."

I walked to the counter again and asked for another. I drank it right away, then asked another. I wanted it to kick in as soon as possible. I wanted to feel lighter, better... anything but how Noah made me feel. As I walked back to him, he didn't look away from my face as I dropped myself on the chair on the other side of our table.

"I'm glad I didn't succeed with my revenge", he said quietly.

"Why?" I asked when he stayed silent for a while.

"Because it's as clear as day what a good person you are."

I laughed. Without happiness.

"I'm not a good person."

He half smiled.

"Try and make me believe it." He almost finished his beer. "You know, Heath had a good sense for people. And he definitely saw something within you, something, which made him talk to you."

I rolled my eyes.

"And what did it earn him? Hm?"

Noah crossed his arms above the table.

"Have you been to his grave?"

His question clenched my heart.

"Yes", I whispered, my voice broke.

"Why?"

I blinked.

"Because he was a decent man. And I wanted to pay my respects."

"What makes you think he was decent?"

I shook my head.

"I don't know... maybe how he tried to make me laugh as much as he could. He was... he was _beaming_." I started to feel the effects of the wine. _Yes! Finally!_ "And he was witty and funny and... ugh." I hid my face in my hands. "He didn't... de-deserve it..."

"Am I decent?"

I looked at him.

"How would I know?" I teased and he smiled. I started to feel finally lighter. More words spilled than what I wanted. "You might have the same stupid attractive face, but I dunno you."

At this, he burst out in laughter.

_"Same stupid attractive face?"_

I rolled my eyes.

"I am cursed with ridiculously good-looking men around me, so yeah. What's so funny?"

If it was possible, Noah laughed even harder.

"Do you find me attractive, then?"

I felt I blushed.

"Oh shut up."

"No, really!"

"Do you want to get punched?"

My question made him laugh again.

"I'd like to see you try."

"You'd be out for two days."

"Hah, you wish! You're a tiny, soft marshmallow, as I've told you."

"I maybeso, but I bite!"

"I'd like to see you try that, too."

"Careful what you wish for!"

I lost myself in the friendly and light banter. Noah was easy company. Finally, for a night, I truly felt I left my troubles behind.

Then I suddenly realised we were walking down my street. Walking... _tumbling!_ I couldn't walk properly. But I was laughing at something he said.

"Shh-stahp", he gurgled and another laughter rolled off my lips as he had to rely on a wall nearby and I had to rely on him for support. "Nah rilley! I needta... wheres..."

"My-hi! Flat", I mumbled with a hiccup, then tapped his arm and pushed myself away from it. I nearly fell on my butt but he grabbed me in the last moment. I laughed again and hiccupped. "Fuck- hing! Hell..."

We grabbed each other, then continued wandering down the street. Even my thoughts lost their coherence by now. We reached the house, then the lift, and we spent at least five minutes as we tried to press the right button to my floor. I grabbed his arm and led him out— straight against my door. He moaned something as I tried to focus and push the correct key in the hole to open my flat. I've spent quite a while with that, but he didn't seem to mind. When we finally were in, he literally fell on his butt near the door.

"Water", I mumbled, feeling another hiccup, "we ne-hid! Water..."

I poured myself a glass of water and drank it. It helped to clear my mind just a bit. Then I drank another and brought him a glass of it, too. He silently accepted and drank it. I dropped my bag and shoes next to him.

"Waits", he tried to get up and I tried to help him.

"Sle-hip", I mumbled and I wandered to my bedroom with him.

He didn't protest. With a huff, he fell on my bed and I stared at him for a while when I saw his eyes closed immediately. _Fuck._ I drank too much. I sat on the bed next to his feet and with a hiccup, I undid his shoes and dropped them to the floor. He mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What?" I whispered.

"Come... here..."

I climbed up on the bed next to him and he slowly waved around with his hand to find my arm.

"You need sleep", I mumbled, "so sleep, Noah."

"No..." He opened his eyes and glanced up at me. "I... jush... damm..."

I smiled.

"It's fine."

"Stay."

I blinked at him. His hand gently touched my cheek; his fingers and palm was warm. I swallowed.

"Okay."

He turned to me when I lied down and his fingers reached under my chin to lift my head. I grabbed his hand. I just realised I finally stopped hiccuping.

"Noah..."

I knew, I _felt_ he wanted to do something I'd probably regret the next morning. He furrowed his brows. Even _this_ drunk, he understood my intentions, through my expression, tone and body language.

"No?"

At his question, I sighed. A part of me wanted to. A small part of me. But most of me did not.

"I'm sorry. I love... I love someone else."

His lips twitched into a smile, I saw it in the dark. He dropped his hand on my bed and slurred 'lucky one'. I smiled to myself when I saw he closed his eyes again.

"Let's be friends", I mumbled and he hummed quietly in agreement. "Sleep."

It didn't take him long. So I tried to relax as well. I was so tired I barely could keep my eyes open, but when I closed them I felt like the room was spinning around me.

I had a dream of kissing Heath. Not Noah; in my dream I knew the difference. But when I pulled away from him in my dream, I felt guilty. I felt like I cheated, though I knew that right now, anyone would've thought we weren't a couple with Mycroft. But that was my problem. I still wanted him and I missed him terribly.

I woke up with a terrible headache, to my alarm, which rang in my kitchen. I pushed myself away from Noah; he had his arms around me and I was lying on his chest. In my sleep I probably thought unconsciously he was Mycroft, that's why I snuggled to him. He grumbled something, but didn't wake up. I glanced down at him, with furrowed brows; I'd need to wake him up at some point. Better earlier than later, I suppose. I nudged his shoulder gently and he grumbled like a bear, which made me smile. He lazily opened his eyes.

"What?"

"I need to go to work."

"Right…"

I got up and decided I'd have a shower, so I left him there and locked myself in my bathroom with a set of new clothes. I quickly showered, then dried myself, got dressed, pinned up my hair and walked back to my bedroom. Noah still was sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I walked across my room.

"Headache."

"You didn't even drink much", I teased and he groaned.

"I always get drunk easily."

"Weakling", I commented and he snorted.

I smiled as I watched him get up. Noah straightened his clothes and ran a hand in his hair as he turned to look at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"What is it?"

My question seemed to make him more puzzled.

"I think I… actually… tried to kiss you yesterday." At his words, I blushed deeply. "But I don't remember if it happened or not."

"No", I sighed as I opened the door to my kitchen and walked out to my bag. "I told you I love someone else."

I heard he came after me.

"And you do?"

I cocked a brow and looked at him as I put my shoes on.

"Do you think I'd lie?"

He furrowed his brows.

"No… I don't."

"Well, then, it's settled."

"Who is it, though?"

I put the bag's strap on my left shoulder.

"Noah, I'll be late. Is this really important?"

He got his own shoes on and motioned with his chin to the door. We quickly left my flat and I felt his eyes on me as we were waiting for the lift to reach the bottom floor. Mycroft's hints about setting up cameras everywhere made me slightly nervous; I was somehow sure he'd sooner or later see and everything that happens here.

"So, is it true?"

"What is?"

"That you love someone."

"Yes."

My sigh did only encourage him.

"And who is it?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm merely curious."

I arched a brow.

"You've met him."

He thought for a second. Then…

**_"Nooo waaay."_ **

I finally broke out in a smile when I imagined how Mycroft will react to Noah's reaction.

"I think I'll need another latte at the café you're working at", he sighed and I continued smiling.

"Alright, as long as you pay for it."

I went in the usual bakery for a croissant which I ate on the way. Then I got my phone out of my bag. I furrowed my brows. I've had three missed calls, two from Mycroft, one from an unknown number. And I received two texts.

**Please, talk to me. – M**

The second was a picture. From a number I didn't know. I stopped walking. There was nothing else on the picture, just a silver Franklin Covey binder planner. How did I know it was a Franklin Covey one?

_Because this binder was once mine._

I stopped walking. I furrowed my brows. The last time I've had this planner with me was when I…

**_No. No way. That can't be._ **

"What?"

Noah's voice snapped me out of my shock and I quickly deleted the picture.

"Nothing, let's go."

We reached the café quickly. I finished my croissant, then decided after I opened the place that I'd call Mycroft. So I watched as Noah sat down, then I made him a coffee just like yesterday and brought it to him. Then I disappeared a bit in the kitchen.

"Good morning."

I blinked at my shoe covered feet. His voice was hoarse and I just knew he must've been awake since 6. So why sound like this at 8?

"Good morning", I replied, my heart fluttering in my chest when I heard his voice. I decided I'd be honest… accepting everything which happened won't be easy for either of us, but I wanted to see him despite all the things that happened lately. "I'm so sorry for yesterday. Can I make it up to you somehow?"

Nothing for a few seconds, then I heard him sigh.

"What do you want, Elisabeth?"

His question caught me off guard. I furrowed my brows.

"What do you mean?"

"You've spent your evening and night with Noah." His monotone reply felt like a punch in my gut. "I've just received the news he spent the night in your flat. And now, he's at the café."

"And?"

I didn't realise I started to feel sick to the stomach. This couldn't be. Why was he like this?

"And I want to know why would you want to apologise to me when you clearly had… fun."

I closed my eyes.

"Because I want **_you_** , you thick moron."

There was a brief silence, then he sounded like my words didn't affect him at all.

"It's hard for me to believe that."

I clenched my teeth. Was he stupid? Did he do this on a purpose? _Why, why, why?! Was he punishing me?!_

"Is it?"

"Why else would you spend time with him?"

"I don't know." I stared up at the ceiling. "Mycroft, you're not being reasonable."

"I believe I'm completely reasonable, Elisabeth." His tone made me want to slap him all over again. And gosh, if he stood right here before me, I'd totally slap him again. Maybe that'd wake him up. "Reconsider your choices."

"I reconsidered them, you _dumb boob!_ "

"No, you didn't. I'd say you need more time."

"Mycroft, why are you punishing me? Does this make you feel good? You know just as well as I do that even if you're not with me, I only think of you and I wouldn't let anyone else as close to me as I let you. I miss you."

I could only heard his quiet, steady breathing. I was wondering what was going on in his head.

"I'll call you back."

I gritted my teeth as I heard he hung up, then tossed my phone back in my bag. Did I deserve this? Really? After all that happened? But why? Was he jealous? Then why didn't he interrupt us yesterday like he did all the time back then?

" _Bollocks_ ", I grumbled beneath my nose and walked out of the kitchen to the guest area. When I looked up, I saw Sherlock sat in one of the small booths. When I appeared, he immediately looked at me and flashed a way too wide smirk my way. " _Shit._ "

So the chase of Loche officially had begun.

_The game is on!_


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Judging by the fact she unbuttoned her blouse and spent some time with him privately, I'd say she already has a date with our culprit", Sherlock replied at the speed of light.
> 
> (A slightly longer chapter for all of you, wonderful people. Hope you enjoy this witty girl going on dangerous adventures... ;) <3)

As I approached Sherlock's table, I knew something would go wrong. Ah well. It'd be hard to get rid off of my instincts. I couldn't drink them away...

"Good morning, what can I bring you?" I asked Sherlock and he smiled up at me.

"Help", he replied simply.

"I'm working, Sherlock", I smiled down at him as I whispered. "But I think Noah could help you."

Sherlock followed my glance. Noah cocked a brow when he noticed we were looking at him.

"Tea, two sugars, splash of milk", Sherlock told me as he got up on his feet and walked over to Noah.

I rolled my eyes and wrote it up, then greeted the other customers. I made sure I prepared everything for everyone else first, then I walked over to Sherlock and Noah. They both pulled themselves closer to the window and kept murmuring quietly when I approached them. It seemed Sherlock found Noah useful.

"Your tea, sir", I put it in front of Sherlock.

"Thank you." He glanced up at me and his eyes wandered on my scarf-covered neck before he looked back up in my eyes. "His address." He wasn't offering it, he wanted to know it. I furrowed my brows at him, then slightly shook my head. "Get it out of him."

"Right."

As I walked back to the counter I wondered why did he even think I'd help. He didn't even ask! Did he really know me this well? With a sigh, I discreetly unbuttoned the first and second button on my shirt, knowing Loche would arrive soon.

I was right. A couple of minutes later Loche walked in the café. I greeted him with a beaming smile and asked him if he needed anything. I made sure to emphasise 'need' and 'anything' in a sweeter tone, and I knew I lured him in the moment his eyes wandered on my unbuttoned blouse.

"Yes, I... if you have a few minutes, pop in my office, please?"

"At once, sir", I tried my best to sound eager. "Anything you need. Just a moment."

"Right."

I watched him walk in his office when I saw Noah waved for me. I walked over to them.

"Do you need anything, sir?"

Noah did his best to keep his eyes on my face. What a gentleman.

"Before you do anything, I'd like you to work out with me."

"I don't have time for that, Noah."

"We can't guarantee your safety", Sherlock grumbled.

"Nobody cares about my safety."

He stared at me with furrowed brows.

"Nobody?"

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm free to do whatever I want, got it? Think of me as a freelancer. Now. Gotta dash."

"Wait", Noah hissed after me, but I didn't care.

I handed out a few bills to other customers, then entered Loche's office. He was typing something on his laptop, but closed it immediately when I stopped before his desk.

"Ah, take a seat, please."

"Thank you." I sat down. I waited for at least twenty seconds, but he didn't want to do anything else but stare at me. "What can I do for you, sir?"

Again, I made sure to emphasise words the way they'd do a favour to me. Meaning: to lure him into a trap. I was still very good at doing this. Loche leaned back in his seat and entwined his fingers in his lap.

"I was wondering..."

His blue eyes, again, wandered on my scarf. Then lower.

"Yes, sir?"

His lips stretched into a smile as he looked back at my eyes.

"You're doing great. Since you've been working here, I've noticed an increasing number of customers. It seems to me they like to come here because of you."

"I'm trying to please everyone", I smiled shyly, "and I'm doing all I can."

Loche nodded.

"Yes, you do. So, I was thinking about a raise, for you, because of this. But..."

He stared at me, intently, and I knew what did he want. Oh the poor man. He thought I needed the money, desperately. I tried to look eager, for that reason. I straightened myself and leaned a bit forward; making sure to show off more than before and also trying to look like I was interested in his offer.

"But, sir?"

He half smiled. I knew I succeeded.

"Spend an evening with me, tonight."

I beamed a smile at him.

"I'd be glad to, sir!" I tried my best to sound enthusiastic. "I've been..."

"Yes?" He cocked a brow when I cut off.

I tried my best to remember the most embarrassing moments of my life to blush.

"Oh, it's just... I really... wanted to... spend some time with you, sir."

"Really?" He arched his brow further. "Since when?"

I bit my lip, and he looked at it clear as day he was attracted to me.  _Men. So easy to manipulate._

"Since my very first interview, sir."

"Well, then. It'll be a dream which comes true."

"Yes", I smirked.

_ Me, putting you behind the bars. It'll be a dream which comes true. _

"Then... I'll pick you up..."

"Here, at the entrance, at seven?"

He smiled at my eager reply.

"Sure thing. Here, seven."

"Perfect." I nodded. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

"No. You can return to your work."

"Thank you, sir!"

I got to my feet and left his office. As I walked out, I saw Sherlock and Noah was looking at the door I disappeared behind. I smiled at them. I walked a round around the tables, doing my job of wiping the surfaces, greeting and writing up people's orders, handing out a few bills before I walked to their table.

"Do you need anything else, gentlemen?" I asked them.

"So?" Sherlock whispered.

"In progress", I mumbled to him.

"What do you mean, 'in progress'?" Noah grumbled back and Sherlock sighed.

"Judging by the fact she unbuttoned her blouse and spent some time with him privately, I'd say she already has a date with our culprit", Sherlock replied at the speed of light.

"Are you nuts?!" Noah hissed up at me.

"Why?" I hissed back. "I do what I want."

"You'll get yourself in trouble."

"And? Who says it's bad?"

Sherlock grinned out of the window at my reply. He thought I didn't see it, but the window reflected it.

"You don't have the proper training for that", Noah protested, "you'll need some muscles to..."

"Noah, a lady has more weapons than muscles, trust me."

I've had a plan already. It was about to be glorious.

"Agreed. So, will you get the address?" Sherlock glanced up at me.

"You already know the address, don't you?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yes. But it is watched. And I'll need the keys."

"What makes you think that your appearance wouldn't look suspicious?"

"I have a plan."

"No", I took their empty mugs. " ** _I_**  have a plan."

"Wait!"

I didn't bat an eyelash about Noah's word as I turned and walked back to the counter. I felt  _amazing_. The rush of the chase. Hah. Maybe if Mycroft realises how I threw myself into danger again, he'd know better than to tell me to 'reconsider it'. Maybe if I put myself in harm's way, he'd show up to change my mind and he'd have to talk with me.

But that day, he did not.

Noah left the café with Sherlock for a few hours, then he came back just before close time. As I walked over to him, I couldn't help but smile; this man had the grumpiest expression I've ever seen on anyone's face. Honestly? He was cute. And the fact he was grumpy because of my stubbornness only made him cuter.

"What can I bring you?" I smiled down at him.

"Lean down and I'll tell you." I stepped closer and leaned down a bit. I felt he slipped something in my shirt's upper pocket. "Bring me a ham and egg sandwich, alright?"

"Right away."

I straightened myself, then walked back to the kitchen like nothing even happened. When I was hidden, I checked my pocket. There was a handwritten note, folded in two.

_ Do not intervene. Let us handle this. _

I rolled my eyes and put the note back in my pocket. He wished he could turn me down this easily! I prepared his sandwich and brought it to him.

"There you go, sir."

I beamed a smile at him, without even leaving him a reply, then wandered to other tables to do my routines. When he was done, he paid for it, then left. After I closed the café, my phone started to ring.

"Don't do anything, just this once."

I felt like a child at Christmas. His voice! So stern! So... sexy.

"Come and persuade me."

"Elisabeth, stop it, now! You have no idea what you're playing with!"

"Come, persuade me", I repeated, slower.

"Is this a game to you?!" Mycroft snapped.

"Our game. And I like it."

"Damnit!" I smiled when I heard him curse. "Listen to me just this once."

"Not unless you come here personally."

"I will not."

"Why?"

"I can't."

I clenched my teeth, then hung up. Then I started to hurry home. I'd need to get ready for a date, now, and not with him. Ah, so be it! If he wanted to watch from the VIP suite, then he can have his wish.

After twenty meters, though, I noticed someone was following me. And that someone was Noah. I sighed and waited for him to reach me.

"What? Are you trying to stall me, now?" I asked him and he smiled.

"No. I'll walk you home and talk to you."

"Good. A chat'd be nice."

"How are you feeling?"

I opened my mouth to reply, then I stayed silent. I didn't know what to say as I almost never heard this question.  _How are you feeling?_  Such a simple, yet so complex question. And I felt like he  _cared_. Even more rare.

"I'm fine."

I wouldn't fool Noah. He'd been trained and he had two good eyes to spot anything. I knew he knew I was everything but fine.

"What's your plan for tonight?"

I half smiled at him.

"I'll have a date, Noah."

I saw his mind worked at the speed of light. I noticed his hands clenched to fists for a moment. My reply upset him. He knew what was I talking about. He knew who'd I 'date'. He knew where would I be tonight and with whom.

"Don't do this", he whispered gently and he grabbed my arm and turned me around to pull me back. I glanced in his chocolate brown eyes, how he moved the inner ends of his eyebrows up, which made him look like a ridiculously cute, lost puppy. "Beth, please."

I smiled softly. I couldn't recall anyone ever calling me 'Beth'. But from Noah, it sounded so natural. As if he's been calling me like that for at least a decade.

"Let me go", I told him, "let me do what I do best."

"I don't want you to go there. You'd be unprepared for him."

"I am not."

My protest made him visibly upset. And a little bit angry. Funny; how he wanted to kill me before and how he tried to save me from harm at all costs. It was interesting.

"He's not a simple murderer. He rapes and tortures his victims before he slits their throats."

"Why tell me this?" I arched a brow. He didn't know I've been there, done that... though nobody ever slit my throat, I had to admit... "I'm not a scared butterfly."

"I'm telling you", he pulled me closer, "because I don't want to see that you ended up like that."

I leaned to his ear and whispered:

"No flowers, please."

I got his hand off of my arm and hurried down the street.

"Beth!"

He seemed to be very persistent. Why? What news did he receive and from who? I had a feeling he was in contact with Mycroft. I reached my home, and he followed me. We went in the lift.

"It's useless to try and persuade me, you know", I told him and he smiled gently.

"I'm not about to persuade you anymore."

"Then why are you coming with me?"

To my question, he smiled.

"You'll see."

So, then, I opened my flat and kicked my shoes off. I put my bag on my table and I heard he didn't follow me. I heard the distant sound of the lock clicking in my door. Annoyed, I yelled back:

"I still can kick your ass if I want to!"

I knew he was right about me. I needed training. But what he probably did not know was that back in the lift to Mycroft, I didn't exactly fight back. And I also trained myself here in my apartment to keep fit a bit; since Mycroft's time at the hospital, I had to.

"Beth", he murmured softly directly behind me as I let my hair down. "Please, look at me."

"There's no need, I'm pretty sure I'd see a pair of ridiculously lost puppy eyes."

He touched my shoulder and turned me around, then I felt a soft kiss on my lips. I froze. Okay. I anticipated a lot of things, but never this. He hit me unprepared. Again.

And I didn't like it.

I pushed him away.

"Are you crazy?" I hissed through my slight panic.

Mycroft undoubtedly had my place under close watch. I checked for bugs every day and I frequently found some equipment. Usually only sound, but a few times, I found little cameras as well. I had to stop sleeping naked...

"Probably", he sighed.

Then he cupped my cheeks and kissed me again.  _Okay, **okay**._  It felt good. And it was hard to resist. His lips were thick and warm and soft... and persistent. He nudged me towards my bedroom and I giggled in his lips.

"You can't possibly—"

My mumble made him smile, too.

"Spend the night with me."

Holy shit. He was the Devil. Or...

"Alright."

My agreement surprised him, but he didn't protest as I kissed him much more deeply than he did, before. I pushed him towards my bedroom, this time. He let me and moaned in my mouth when I lied him down on my bed. I knelt on him, practically sitting in his lap as I lowered myself to keep him occupied. Meanwhile, I reached for my best hiding spot between my bed and my wall. I fished out the metal and snaked it around his wrist I pushed up — to which he obliged, I've had no idea why. Maybe he got a bit carried away. I smiled in the kiss when he groaned and realised he was lured into a trap. Before he could use his other hand, I handcuffed it, too, then pulled away and looked down at him.

"Useless", I told him when he yanked the cuffs, "they're connected to a gas pipe. Sorry."

"Beth, don't do this", he tried to push himself up and I arched a brow.

"Tell me, are you wired?" His lower lip twitched. I reached under his shirt and slipped my hand under him. "Sorry, my hand's a bit cold." He huffed and I retrieved the wires. I arched a brow and put the small earphone in my left ear. "Well, Mycroft? Are you still underestimating me?"

It amazed and upset me how he could simply order Noah to distract me. And with this method! Why? Why did he want to get me out of it so much? Well... apart from the obvious dangers...

"Elisabeth..." His sigh let me know he was clearly annoyed. "You have no idea what we're dealing with. Jon Loche is a dangerous man and he's a pawn to our mutual friend."

Our mutual friend. To Moriarty. Well, that changes a few things...

"Is this line safe?"

"It is. Your flat, less so."

I furrowed my brows at Noah. Jim was tempting me; Noah was tempting me (with training and field work, though); Sherlock was tempting me (with danger, to be precise). Only Mycroft wanted to keep me away. And I should heed his warnings; I should be a good girl and accept his advice. But then I remembered the picture of my planner; and I knew I must go and play by Jim's rules. I had to get my planner back. It can't fall to the wrong hands...

"Which dress should I put on?" I asked, and walked to my wardrobe.

"Please, listen to me..."

"No."

"Why?! Why must you alway cause so much trouble?!"

"Just because then, you'll pay attention to me."

My words were followed by deep silence.

"I'm paying attention to you. All the time."

"No, you don't." I walked to my window with a longer red and a shorter black dress. I put one after the other before myself. "Black or red?"

"Elisabeth..."

"Black. Or. Red?"

Mycroft audibly sighed.

"Red. Hide the wires under it. Let your hair down. Bring that lipstick with you."

I looked surprised. I didn't anticipate him to actually let me do it. I sensed a trap.

"Am I in, now?"

"Yes. Don't go dark."

"Okay. I'll have a shower now."

"Right."

I looked down at Noah and smiled.

"Would you be angry if I left your man in my bed?"

"No. I'll get him freed, later."

I brought the dress to the bathroom and frowned as I left the wires next to Noah on the bed. His promise made me slightly nervous. He didn't tell me Noah wasn't 'his man'. Of course, I knew no one would say no to him if he offered a job, but still...

I had a shower, then dressed and quietly removed my mini taser from my hidden stash. My hidden stash? It was my tampon box. Hah! Neither men nor women would think to search for anything here. The taser was tiny, it ironically looked like a metal tampon, but it was exceptionally strong. It had to be! Worked like a charm.

When I walked out, I knew Mycroft set up a trap for me. He never would've let me go alone, what was I thinking?

Another man was in my bedroom and he was trying to set Noah free, who cursed and urged him.

"Shit!" The black man cursed when he realised I arrived too early.

I jumped to him and pushed the taser to his neck. He groaned, shook a bit, then he lost his consciousness and rolled off my bed. Noah cursed like a sailor again as I leaned to him and checked if he was still handcuffed, and the answer was yes. Then I got another handcuff out of my nightstand's drawer, and made sure the other man was secured to my bed's leg as well. Then I fetched the earphone.

"You know, I really wish you were here, Mycroft. I'd love to tie you up, too."

"Elisabeth, I'm not asking you again..."

"Then don't, so I won't have to say no to you again!" I put my special lipstick away. "Just so you know, our deal is forfeit. I almost worked for you again. Shame you played your chance. But I'd love you to send more men here. I wonder how many of them would fit in my bedroom. Now, I gotta dash; take care of Noah, will you?"

I dropped the equipment on the bed before waiting for his reply. Noah stared up at me.

"Will you be a good boy while I'm away?" I asked him with a smile.

"I don't think so."

"Okay. Would you like a glass of water before I leave you here?"

"Hm... yes, please."

"Right", I walked out, got a glass, poured water in it and applied a bit of the special lipstick on the rim of the glass, then I brought it back to him. He pushed himself up a bit and I put the glass to his lips. I watched him drink. "You'll be fine. I promise." I saw he realised something was wrong, but I only helped him back on my pillow. "You're safe." I smiled at him gently. "It's alright."

"Beth..."

"Shh... don't fight it." I stroked his hand. "Just sleep."

He closed his eyes and I got up. I put my tiny taser in my small black handbag and left my flat — locking the two sleeping birds in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way in the past couple of days I watched Spooks — For the Greater Good film in which Kit Harington played an MI5 agent — I COULD NOT, HE WAS SO PERFECT IN IT, THAT IS HOW I PICTURE NOAH, AAAAAH HELP ME I'M SO INSPIREEEEED!
> 
> P. S.: I also downloaded and bought the full version of Sherlock — The Network AND IT'S SO AWESOME! Thanks to BalderRask for bringing it to my attention! <3


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If he needs to know, then he can come and ask me."

I called Jon to let's meet earlier. With all the fretting people around me, I had to slightly change the plans. Fortunately, my boss wasn't as clever and he agreed to meet with me at the café. He came for me with a silver BMW, which was rather flashy for my taste. I got in after greeting him, and he drove off with me shortly after. I fastened my seatbelt.

"You look ravishing", he commented and I smiled to myself.

"Thank you", I accepted and sized him up. He had a blue shirt on which enhanced his baby blue eyes, but it was in quite the contrast with his stubble, which, in the evening light, seemed to be burning on his face. Actually, he was rather handsome. Just like with Sherrinford, the looks hid a monster. What a shame… "And you, boss, look handsome."

He laughed quietly at the road.

"We'll go to my house, is that alright?"

"Sure."

Of course it was alright. If everything goes well, I could call the police there when I was done searching his place. We arrived to the suburbian area where his house was after a bit long drive. We kept quiet, though I felt the tension between us started to build. It wasn't the same kind of tension like what I felt when I was with Mycroft; this was darker, deeper, dangerous. Jon wasn't someone to be taken lightly, and his closeness made me a bit nervous. We passed through his gate which was controlled by electricity; he used a card which he swiped down at the terminal which was before the gate itself. He had a vast house. I wondered from where did he get it. Maybe inherited?

"Come on", he said as he stopped the car. "Follow me."

I obeyed, left the car, closed the door and followed him inside. The magnificent hall's walls were covered with tasteful paintings of dukes and princesses – apparently, I noticed most of the Royal family's members. With a cocked brow, I followed Jon through the hall to a room as big as my flat which was a bar.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked and I smiled innocently.

"Yes, please."

"What would you like to have?"

"Red wine, please."

"Alright."

I followed him. I made sure he'd show his back to me but I also made sure he'd stand in front of a piece of furniture which had reflective surface. I wandered around in the room and pretended I was looking at the details in the room, but in reality, I made sure if he mixed anything in my drink. And there he was, yes, he did. Some sort of white powder… it could be anything. I quickly turned my back on him and smiled to myself confidently, reaching for the taser in my bag.

I'd need to drink from the wine. If I drank for the wine, I'd get drugged, I'd probably get sedated and he'd have a chance to tie me up and do whatever he wants without me having a chance to break free. I couldn't let that happen. I either would need to kiss him to get the lipstick work, or… or I'd need to use my taser. I didn't decide which one would I eventually use.

"There you go", he walked after me and offered me my drink.

"Thank you so much, sir."

I accepted the glass and looked into it, then glanced back at him. He had that eager look on his face… his eyes intently watching every movement of me. The man made me nervous. He wasn't playing coy.

"Don't you drink something, too?" I asked innocently and he finally cracked a smile.

"Ah, yeah, of course."

He turned around and poured some whiskey for himself.

"So, how do you like it in the café?"

"I love it, sir. I like to work with people and they seem to like me, too."

"Hmm, as I've said, you're a fine addition to my place." He turned and walked back to me. I examined his movements; I looked for potential weak points on his body. "Well, then, I congratulate on your successes as a waitress in my café."

I smiled wider. Shit. I need to drink from this wine and if I do, I'm dead. Alright. Plan B.

"Thank you so much, sir", I accepted, then my glass touched his and I put the glass to my lips.

I pretended I drank, but in reality, I did not. He visibly narrowed his eyes and waited for his drug to get to work. But it would not. I'll need to act fast. My heart beat a quick rythm in my throat.

"Say", he mumbled, "tell me more about Sebastian Moran." I felt like my heart was about to break my ribs. **_What! The! Fuck!_** My eyes slightly widened and sheer panic rushed through my veins, boosted with adrenaline. When he saw my reaction, he chuckled. "See…" He turned his back on me and opened a drawer. "I've been thinking about this ever since I hired you. What was it like to work with that big brute of a man?"

He turned to face me and he had my old silver binder in his hands. I tried not to start panting. My hand held the glass so tight I was afraid I'd break it.

"That belongs to me", I whispered and I slowly put my own glass down.

Jon smirked.

"Come get it, dear. Though, I'm afraid the drug I put in your wine is going to work soon."

I smirked back at him.

"I just pretended I drank from it, you moron."

We stared at each other. Then he slowly put my binder down. I made sure the taser was in my left hand, unseen by him.

"He told me you'd be clever. But I didn't think you'd be this clever."

It happened in mere seconds. He launched himself at me and I only had time to raise my hand with the taser in it, half dodging out of his way. He grunted and I moaned. His fist hit my ribs, but my taser touched his right cheek. He was out in a moment, collapsed, and I had to cough. I didn't feel satisfaction at all. I felt he fell and when he was on the ground, I walked over to the small table and picked up my binder.

I need to burn it.

I whipped my head around for inspiration, then I ran out to the hall. From there, another door led to another room and it was slightly open, so I ran inside. But that wasn't a living room. It seemed more like a…

"Holy shit", I gasped.

The walls were full of pictures of women Loche captured and tortured. I stared at the pictures in complete horror; some gutted, some decapitated, some missed a few or all limbs, and they all seemed to be alive. My hands went numb. I nearly dropped my binder.

Then a fist hit me on the back of my head and because of it, I dropped both my bag and my binder.

"Whore!"

I groaned and collapsed, I lost contact with the world for a second. Loche seemed to be awake! The taser! I used most of the charge of it on the man who tried to free Noah! Oh no! I staggered a bit and I was kicked in the stomach. I slid across the room.

"Stop or I'll shoot!"

 _"John!"_ I coughed.

Loche launched himself at him. I inscinctively jerked. John did **_not_** joke when he said he'd shoot. I looked up and saw Loche fell on the ground, but he wasn't dead. Policemen flooded the room. I tried to push myself to get my binder but a man picked it up faster than I did.

"No!" I shouted, "that's mine!"

"It was in this room, so it's evidence", he grumbled to me and walked out.

"No!"

"Mr Holmes, we found this in there… it seems to be written in some sort of code…"

 ** _Sherlock!_** **_Oh no! Shit! Fuck!_** I pushed myself to my feet and hurried after him, as much as I could.

"That's mine!"

"Miss, please stop walking, you must be in shock…"

"Get out of my way!"

I pushed a few men away and finally reached Sherlock. He already was staring at the first two pages of my binder.

"Sherlock, give it to me", I told him. "That's mine."

He glanced at my face. My heart still beat in my throat.

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Why do you want it back so much?"

"It's mine!"

"Does it have to do something with Sebastian Moran and James Moriarty?"

**_Shit! How did he know about Sebastian? This place must've been bugged!_ **

"No!"

I detected he noticed I was lying. I reached out for it and he moved out of my way.

"Lestrade, please arrest Miss Lone."

"What?!"

Lestrade showed up from the middle of nowhere and I nearly laughed in Sherlock's face.

"Please, Sherlock, give it to me…"

"Right now, Greg."

I stared at DI Lestrade and he stared back at me. Then I sighed and offered my wrists for the detective.

 

The minutes slowly melted into hours. I kept sitting on the chair, staring on the table before me, my hands still cuffed. I was in deep thought; I kept wondering what would they do to me. I knew the news were bad; if my binder got in Mycroft's hands... _if he suspected..._ I wasn't a fool, they'd need a couple of hours to crack my code... fine, not hours, not with Mycroft and Sherlock... and most of the info would be useless anyway, as Jim burned all his bridges down, or Sherlock tore them apart... **_still..._**

DI Lestrade visited me first. He sat on the other chair on the other side of the table, then leaned back and sighed.

"What is your relation to Moriarty?"

His question rang a bell in my head. Nothing about Loche. So they've read at least some of the binder. Shit! They suspected, but didn't know the true answer. **_Yet._** I was a tough nut to crack, but most of the people here didn't know. After what Sherrinford put me through, I'd need way too much to break.

"I'll only talk to Mycroft Holmes", I replied calmly and Lestrade lifted a brow.

"He will not come here."

"He'll have to."

"Just tell me. Spare us the time." I didn't talk. "He needs to know."

"If he needs to know, then he can come and ask me."

Was this the reason he didn't want to meet me in person? Because he suspected? Did he receive a bit of information and he was kept in the corner with it?

Lestrade tried a few other times. I started to get thirsty, but I could hold on. A few hours passed again. I fell asleep at the desk. I woke up to someone entering the room. It was John.

"I want to help you, because you've proved so many times that you can be trusted. So please. Tell me."

"My relation to Jim?" I asked, my voice a bit hoarse.

"Yes. That's what they're most interested in."

"I'll only talk to Mycroft about it."

John sighed.

"He can't come out of the office. Moriarty blew up a hospital."

"What?!" I gasped, shocked. "No! Tell me this isn't true!"

He glanced at my hands which started to shake on their own in the handcuffs. I tried to stop it, so I hid them under the table. John looked back up in my eyes.

"Liz, please tell me. It's crucial."

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I want Mycroft to hear it from me."

John tried to persuade me. I didn't let him. I hid my face in my arms crossed on the table when he left. I tried to fall asleep again. But it was hard, knowing the damage Jim caused again.

A few hours passed again. The thirst was the worst, then I became aware of the fact I had to pee. I tried to stay motionless for the majority of the time.

Then another visitor came. I opened my eyes and smiled faintly at Noah. He sat down and glanced at my handcuffed hands.

"You look tired", I noted and he sighed.

"Beth, I've tried to talk sense into him, but he didn't want to listen to me."

"It's fine", I sighed. "I understand him."

He crossed his arms, leaned closer to me and relied on the table.

"You can tell me. I won't tell him."

I smiled at Noah. I knew we were watched and he might've also been wired. Telling him was out of question.

"You're a good man, Noah. But that piece of information doesn't concern you. I'm sorry. I'll only tell it to Mycroft."

"Some... people... want to interrogate you."

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Maybe the reason Mycroft didn't show up was because he tried to shake off those who wanted to cause me harm? Was he trying to fight for me, not against me, in this moment?

"Tell him to come. I'll tell him everything he wants to know."

Noah stared in my eyes. I opened my heart. This was true.

"Why only to him?"

"Because he deserves that much, wouldn't you agree?"

Noah half smiled, his eyes were sad.

"You love him dearly, right?" At his question, I nodded tiredly. "Well... we'll see."

"Noah", I mumbled when he got up. "Please try to tell them to let me go to the bathroom? I won't ask for anything else, but even when I was tortured for five months, I've had free access to a toilet."

Noah half smiled, again. He leaned down and got a hold of my hands.

"I'll see what I can do. I promise."

"Thanks."

He really did. Five minutes later, I was let out to the loo, at least. Then I was escorted right back. Alone. For another few hours, before Sherlock turned up.

I noticed the pattern. And I hoped the next after Sherlock would be Mycroft and he was just buying himself time.

Sherlock sat down on the other chair and placed down my silver binder between us with a sigh. Then, he placed a bottle of water next to it. I took a look at both, then I stared up at him.

Then we continued to stare at each other. He didn't want to talk, and I wasn't about to break the silence.

"So", he leaned back. I smiled to myself. I knew he'd be the first to get tired of the waiting. "Let's start with your binder." I didn't say anything, just stared at him silently. "We cracked your code and from it, I could recover some useful information. Namely, you've been to Germany." I stayed, with my best pokerface, making sure I continued my breathing meditation to hide everything from my expression and body language. I closed my eyes and thought of Mycroft; what did he know about me, now? What did he  ** _think_**  he knew about me? "You were on a mission and you've met a certain Sebastian Moran. He left a lasting impression in you. From what we could muster, he's dead." I nearly smiled. Nearly. Then I controlled my thoughts. "But, while he was alive, he was a highly trained assassin, a sniper. Apparently, I think he trained you to be such a good shot."  _Clever boy, I had to give him that._  "But there's something else which is more concerning..." I opened my eyes and glanced at his face when I heard he opened my old binder. He turned a few pages and scanned through them. "It seems to me you're writing too much about Jim. You've been observing him, studying him. Actually, you were too close to him. He kept you on a tight leash. Why?" I silently examined the bottle of water and swallowed. "Elisabeth... I'm trying to help you, but I can't, not unless you tell me at least a few things."

I swallowed again. I was so thirsty. And the past was almost crushing me.

"I'll only talk to Mycroft", I whispered. "I won't tell you anything."

Sherlock closed my binder and put it between us.

"Do you think it'd be wise of him if he came here personally?"

I looked up at his face.

"Sherlock... I wouldn't hurt him. Ever. You all know that."

He got to his feet, then put his fingers on the table and stared back at me, intently.

"I just told you we know Jim kept you on a tight leash. It's evident from your notes." He leaned a bit closer and kept eyecontact. "Then why didn't you remember him?"

I frowned, just a bit slightly. I knew he noticed. He pushed himself away from the table and walked away. He left my binder and the water on the table.

I was incredibly thirsty. But I didn't trust them that I wouldn't get sedated through it. It seemed the bottle hadn't been opened yet, but you never know. After all, the secret services were clever.

But they taught me well.

So I picked up my binder instead. The touch of the soft faux leather brought back old memories; my current diary was simple hard cover, for obvious reasons. I opened my binder. And smiled faintly. I still remembered my codewriting.

 

_14th October_

_Sebastian is fucking nuts. The man started to train me and he's a fucking brute. He broke two of my ribs on my right side._

_Jim laughed._

 

The smile melted off of my face. His laughter; I remembered his laughter. So emotionless, cold and cruel.

 

_25th October_

_Jim gave me a job to work on. I'd need to have a rendezvous with a girl in red. She's fascinating._

 

I blinked. Girl in red. A girl, who killed Jim's men. A Russian agent in Northern Germany. I remembered I adored her for her skills. Tanya Broflowsky, she was called.

I closed my binder and put it back next to the bottle of water. I didn't dare to drink from it.

More hours passed. Hunger joined the thirst. I kept thinking if this was a way to try and break me, it was a bit... light. If Jim caught me first, I'd miss some limbs already.

And there he was. He finally came. Maybe he thought he wouldn't be able to make me talk anymore... or maybe the office let him go for an hour. He got his coat off and hung it next to the door; he'd stay for a longer period of time, it seemed. He silently made his way to me, then sat at the other chair. He got a sandwich out of his bag and put it next to my handcuffed hand. I stared at Mycroft's face. It wasn't hard to miss the white of his eyes were slightly red, his lips dry, his entire expression so  _exhausted_. Maybe I was right and maybe he wanted to come and see me sooner, but he couldn't.

"Eat", he said quietly, his soft voice a balm to my aching soul. Our eyes met, and he observed me. I wished he'd talk more, but I knew he came to listen. "I see. Still too clever for her own good."

He reached for the bottle, opened it and drank a bit. I watched his face as he put the bottle back down. Then he opened the paper in which the sandwich was wrapped; it was two slices of toast with grilled cheese between them. He bit into it without hesitation, chewed his bite and swallowed it, thenput the sandwich back down. My stomach rumbled, my saliva flooded my mouth. It smelled delicious.

"Eat it while it's still warm."

I leaned back instead. I was starving and I was close to being dehydrated, but still...

"Why couldn't you come earlier?"

Mycroft sighed. His gaze was hard.

"Because most of those... politically influential people I'm connected to... want your head... and I refused to give them that."

My heart seemed to sink in my stomach and also stop beating at the same time. I was sure the blood left my face.

"Why?" I asked, my voice shaking and his gaze, just a bit, softened.

"Because I  ** _know_**  you're not a traitor of your own country."

I blinked and tears flooded my eyes. My hands started to shake on their own and I've had trouble breathing. I suddenly lost my appetite.

"But", he leaned back, dropping his hands in his lap and entwiting his fingers there, "I need to know the truth. I want to hear everything. No more secrets, Elisabeth Lone. Do you understand? No more." His voice deepened and his eyes looked too serious. " ** _No. More._** "

I closed my eyes and the tears rolled down my face.

"Do you remember when I told you I wouldn't be able to shoot Sherrinford, because I knew he was your brother?"

"Yes. What about it?"

I glanced up at him. I let the tears fall. This was the most surprising reaction from me in the past few hours.

"This is the reason I couldn't hurt Jim", I whispered, and I smiled. "He's my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *HOOOOOOOOOOWLS*  
> I'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR AGES! HUH? HUHHH?? HOW DID YOU LIKE THIS?? XDDD  
> I'm so PUMPED! <3 Shit's about to go down!!! A LOT! XD


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I hate to do this. But I can't protect you in any other way."

I saw how his pupils dilated, how his eyes widened at my words. I swallowed and leaned back as well. I kept looking at his face.

"My original name is Elisabeth Moriarty." The name sounded alien on my tongue. Mycroft stared at me, unblinking and he visibly clenched his jaw. "He made Lone up. She didn't exist before I was ten... before Jim thought I'd be useful." I slowly reached out for the bottle and sipped the cold water. I hummed. "Of course, he has no problems with trying to kill me. As Sherlock pointed it out, Sebastian, whom I also mentioned frequently in my diary, was really a highly trained assassin and a perfect sniper. After I finished my training with MI6, he and Jim perfected my already sharp skills. They were pretty proud of me." I put down the bottle. "Until I turned on them. You've sent me to Berlin during the first week to retrieve a suitcase for you and I knew Sebastian had a hiding place there. So I went there with my binder. I knocked him out, filled his home with gas and ignited a spark with a remote control. I wanted it all to be gone. Jim was dead, and I needed to tie loose ends. I knew I never would be able to cause you any harm. Sebastian was the only one apart from Jim who knew about my mission to eleminate you. I thought I succeeded killing him." I rubbed the bridge if my nose and closed my eyes. I was so tired. "But it's evident I did not. Sebastian is alive. Jim is alive. And I pissed them off." I sighed and faintly smiled at Mycroft. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you… I wanted to be around you." I felt desperate. I looked down on my hands. "If you bring me some maps, I'll show you all of the holes Jim and Sebastian used to hide at. I'll help you catch them. I'll do anything you want. Just please, let me live…"

I glanced up. Mycroft stayed silent and stared at me. Then, he got to his feet and left the room without a word. I rubbed my cheeks under my eyes with the back of my handcuffed hands and sighed. I knew he'd come back; he left his coat inside.

Minutes passed and my hunger returned. So I finally picked up the sandwich. It still was a little bit warm and it was very delicious. Yet, I could not enjoy it to the fullest. I was worried. The way he left me here didn't tell me any good. Of course, if I did a better job at Berlin... and if Jim really... but then...

Ah. Forget it. It is what it is. No use of 'if's and 'but's there.

Why did it matter was what was Mycroft thinking? If he let me go out in the world without his protection... well, let's see a few other 'if's which were important at the moment.

If his 'political allies' thought I betrayed the country,  ** _I'm dead._**

If Jim is set out to get to me and he succeeds,  ** _I'm dead._**

If Sebastian makes out where am I and how to get to me,  ** _I'm dead._**

If I leave on my own and tried to hide, an entire  _country_  could set me on  _WANTED_ ,  ** _I'm dead._**

If I stay,  ** _I'm dead._**

If I don't do something and/or I do anything,  ** _I'm dead._**

**_I'm pretty much already dead._ **

Thinking of the way how Jim wanted me to murder Mycroft in cold blood, Mycroft already was in danger. Twice over, to be precise. If Sebastian wanted to kill someone, that someone would not breathe for long.

I must find Sebastian before he finds us. But given my current situation, I'll go nowhere. I finished the sandwich, then drank some water. I hummed. My stomach felt so satisfied.

Then I fell asleep at the desk again.

A hand was stroking my head. I moved and rubbed my face as I sat back up again. It seemed Mycroft returned. I wondered – this small act of kindness was so unexpected from him to me.

"I'm sorry. I had to talk to Sherlock."

I swallowed. He could've let me out of here, but he didn't trust me. He knew I would not sit on my butt. Maybe he knew I'd probably set out to find them myself.

"It's okay."

"Elisabeth, tell me more about Sebastian."

"Last I saw him he had dark blond hair and blue eyes. He had a sharp-face. He was 2,18 meters tall, well-built, very muscular. Jim liked to call him his personal 'tank'. 'Tank' was also his nickname."

Mycroft didn't need a paper and pen to memorise everything I said. But then again, there probably were people on the other side of the mirror to the right side of the room... Mycroft placed a few maps and a pen in front of me. I quickly circled all the places I remembered, then gave them back to him. He left them on the table and watched me for a few moments before he spoke again. His tone was so soft.

"Any idea where is he now?"

"No clue. I only received a picture of my binder on my phone on the day I went after Loche. But nothing else."

He looked like he believed me. Then...

"Alright."

He got a small plastic bag out of his waistcoat's pocket and placed it next to the water bottle. In the plastic bag, there was a small, white pill. I felt my heart accelerated. I started to panic. _Was this a suicide pill?_ Well... I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be a quick and mostly painless way to go. I wouldn't need to run away... to try and hide... I wouldn't be tortured for information. Out of all of my other choices, this would be the best.

But it still hit me. Hard. New tears gathered in my eyes and I couldn't stop staring at it. The way my handcuff's chains clinged told me my hands started to shake on their own again.

"Stay calm", Mycroft said quietly. "It's only a sedative."

I finally could look up in his eyes.

"Se-sedative?" I stuttered, my voice full of terror.

_Why sedate me?_ _What does he want to do with me? And why? I told him everything he wanted to know!_ Mycroft visibly had trouble keeping his cool demeanor upon seeing how scared I was, but he still managed. I thought for a moment if he ever saw me in so much panic, _panic_ , which **_he_** caused to me.

"I'll be short and brutally honest." His quiet, soft words clenched my stomach. "I'll send you to a special place to figure out what did Jim do to you."

I blinked, confused, panicking.

"Wha-what do you mean what di-did he do to me?"

My hands shook more and I felt my limbs went cold.

"In your diary and even here, now, you claim you've spent time with Jim personally."

My lips quivered when he didn't continue.

"A-and?"

"Why didn't you remember his voice in Hill's residence? And later, too?"

I swallowed.

"I don't— I don't know..."

I shut my eyes.

"Well, this is why I need specialists to work on that."

I stared at him again.

"Wh-where do you want to send me?" His face darkened a bit at my question. I gawked at him in utter horror as the answer dawned on me. "Sher-Sherrinford", I whispered, "you want to send me to... to..."

Mycroft looked like he was a little bit afraid of my reaction. He probably did not anticipate how scared I'd be.

"It's a heavily guarded place. Nobody can enter there, they won't be able to reach you. There're good doctors who'd be able to make progress quickly and effectively. Meanwhile, I'd get my forces on a hunt for our... bad birds."

I shook more.

"I ca-can't... no... you ca-can't..."

"Elisabeth, calm down." He told me quietly. "Think of it as a hospital."

I was close to become completely hysterical.

"Do you really want to-to send me back where... where I was  ** _raped_**  and  ** _committed suicide_**  to sa-save you?"

" _Raped?_ " He echoed sharply and I burst out in a sob.

"I'm not... not! Going back... no... I'll rather... rather die..."

"Did he–"

He suddenly cut off. I put my arms on the table and hid my face in them as I let the desperate bursts of sadness out. _How could he not know? The doctors and nurses never noticed that?_ I fell apart.

"Elisabeth..."

"N-no! Pl... please!"

I heard and felt him move. He slipped his hand on my back to support me. But it was weird — there was no sign of the usual intimacy which we shared most of the time. But... _why?_

"Elisabeth, listen to me." He whispered in my ear. I felt his fingers in my hair and he tugged at my roots, just as he used to do to ground me when he found me first. "I can't guarantee your safety, not now. I'd be forced to interrogate you to get as much information as possible. I wouldn't be able to muster enough protection for you. I won't be able to keep your shadows **_and_** the ones on my side, away from you. But in Sherrinford… my allies would be alright with that. The doctors could prove them you're safe here, in the world. I'd have my men gently testing you, I'd save you from the wrath of my allies and the bad ones wouldn't reach you. At the moment, this is all I can do. This is our best choice."

With a few sniffles, I pushed myself up and looked at him. He crouched next to me and smiled faintly. Then he removed his handkerchief from his pocket and gently stroked the tears off of my face with it.

"I hate to do this." He grumbled. "But I can't protect you in any other way."

I noticed he was sizing me up, his eyes were analysing me. _Why?_

"What do you mean… 'gently testing' me?" I sniffed.

I saw he swallowed.

"We have a theory."

"What sort of a theory?"

Mycroft stood up with a sigh and walked back to the other chair.

"We suspect Jim altered your memory." His reply shook me a bit. "There are a lot of ways to try and tap at the barrier he's set up."

"Why did he alter my memory?" I frowned slightly. "And what sort of a barrier?"

Mycroft leaned back in his chair again and placed his hands together in his lap.

"We're unsure. That's what we'd like to investigate further. Will you help me?"

I held onto his handkerchief. I knew I've had no other choice but to agree. If I didn't, he'd force me.

"What will happen to my belongings?"

I noticed he pressed his lips together.

"Your flat will be thoroughly searched."

I slightly blushed. Including my phone and laptop... well... some of his men would soon realise he was just as much of a man as anyone else... given all of our, well, _sexts..._

"And Ninnie?"

"She'll be moved to my house."

I felt new tears threatened to spill.

"For how long would I be there?"

"Until it is absolutely necessary."

"Will you visit me?"

He blinked, confused, at my question.

"I'll try to."

I let the tears fall again. Then reached out for the pill. I thought of Ninnie, Noah, Sherlock and John... and as I swallowed the pill, I kept wondering if I'd ever see them again.

"You'll be safe." Mycroft got a hold of my hands. He lifted them up and kissed my fingers gently. I cried pathetically. "I swear to you, you'll be safe."

"Can I ask for a favour?" I mumbled and he nodded.

"Anything, darling."

"Please, hold me."

I saw he hesitated. But **_why?_** Why was he so suspicious about me? Then, he nodded, pulled his chair next to mine and wrapped me in a hug.

"I don't know what this is about", I whispered, feeling the sedative already started to work in my system, "but if you think… I'd hurt you… you're wrong…"

Mycroft reached under me and pulled me in his lap, cradled me like a child and I hid my face in his neck as I fought the sedative. I finally could feel his scent, he finally was holding me again. I didn't want it to go away.

"Sleep, Elisabeth. All will be well. I promise you."

"I'll miss you", I whispered and he stroked my head.

"I'll miss you too… I've been trying to—"

He talked more, but I couldn't understand as the pill pushed me into a dreamless sleep.

 

I was lying on a rather hard surface. I thought I was the floor, but when I reached out with my hand, I realised it must've been a bed which was under me. With a hard mattress. I opened my eyes and squinted like an owl; the room was bright, well-lit. The wall was grey. My heart clenched. I remembered this wall. I pushed myself up to sit, and the room seemed to dance around my eyes. Whatever I got, it was strong. I must've been out for hours. I looked down on myself; I've had a white shirt on, the sleeves reached until only my elbows, white, long trousers and small, white shoes. I swallowed. My throat was dry.

I stared at my hands; then glanced around. My hair was let down, someone also combed it through. I smelled like a hospital, the one which usually made me sick. I finally glanced around. There was a 'chair' and a 'desk' before it. Both seemed they were made from concrete. No individual legs for the chair, just a vertical piece of concrete which turned horizontal then ran into the wall, to the left of the bed — if one stood in front of the bed. Before the 'chair' was the 'desk': another picece of concrete, hanging in the air horizontally, from the wall. I looked up; the ceiling had a round cutout and I saw there was a window which let in natural light. Under the window, concrete lines ran in the middle, four from left to right, two from the direction of my bed towards the other side of the room. The floor was about two meter black concrete on the left and right side of the room, other than that, it was made of lighter stone. Then there was, of course, the glass in the far end of the room. I could make out the words, even if they were written backwards, for me — **MAINTAIN DISTANCE OF THREE FEET**. On the right side from where I looked at the glass, there was some sort of exchanger, a hatch – cylindrical shaped. I'd probably get the food there. There was the monitor on the other side of the glass and as I looked around again, I saw the cameras all around, watching me. I felt my heart started to beat faster against my ribs. I started to feel nervous; I was trapped.

It wasn't the fact I was here; the worst of my situation was I didn't know for how long would I be here. Mycroft said, for as long it's absolutely necessary, but how long that was? A few days? Weeks? Months? **_What if it took years?_** My stomach clenched. And a face suddenly showed up on the monitor.

"Good evening, Miss Moriarty." I grimaced. I hated to be called like this. "I am doctor Hall. Please come to the glass." I got to my feet and staggered a bit. I felt dizzy. I needed support, so I relied on the wall. "No need to rush. Be careful." I swallowed and pushed myself away, then walked finally up to the line where the brighter part of the floor ended. "Very good. Now, I'll tell you a few names and you must reply with the first word which comes in your mind. Do you understand?"

I tiredly shifted my weight from my left foot to the right.

"Yes", I replied, my voice hoarse and empty.

"Sherlock?"

I closed my eyes. Now, I saw Sherlock's face before me.

"Friend."

I looked up and I saw she wrote something down.

"Watson?"

"Doctor."

"Loche?"

"Bastard."

"Heath?"

"Guilt."

"Noah?"

"Ten Bells."

"Moriarty?"

"Monster."

"Moran?"

"Ex."

I noticed her eyebrows furrowed a bit at this reply. I felt slightly guilty. If it wasn't evident from my notes before, now it was crystal clear. But I couldn't help it; it just slipped out.

"Mycroft?"

My lips twitched in a half smile.

"Hope."

She wrote something down again.

"Thank you. You have ten seconds to lie down in your bed. Good night."

I frowned slightly. A part of me wanted to discover what would happen if I didn't do as I was told, but since I was tired, I decided I'd cooperate now.

"Good night."

The screen went black and the lights turned to green. I wandered back, almost tripped in my own legs, then lied back down on the hard surface. I pulled the thin sheet over myself. I wished it was something thicker. I felt so bare.

Somehow, I still managed to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon, this is going to happen:  
>   
> I have planned so many shit for the next few chapters, it'll be painful, it'll be bad, but I swear to you. It. Will. Be. Worth. It! Trust me. <3  
> ALSO MYCROFT BABY NEEDS A BREAK, DO YOU AGREE?? XDD


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_Darkness._ **
> 
> **_Darkness._ **
> 
> **_Darkness._ **
> 
> (Will be hard. Prepare yourself. I made myself cry. XD)

I was so glad I've had no nightmares. But eventually, I knew they'd return. My first thought was that I was in the same place as Sherrinford. And this thought made me uneasy. I sat up and rubbed my face. Then I stretched my arms above my head. I've tried to think of something to do, but it was rather hard for me as I've had nothing but a mainly empty room. I stretched my legs, too. I started to analyse my feelings.

The lights turned from green to blue. I blinked, my eyes were a bit confused.

"Good morning. You're an early bird, Miss Moriarty."

I gritted my teeth as I heard the family name. I got to my feet.

"Good morning, doctor Hall."

My dry reply didn't affect her at all.

"There's a door to the left of your bed. Behind it, there's a bathroom. You can freely use it."

I smiled to myself in disbelief. At least, I have this much. Who would've thought I'd be granted an own bathroom? _What mercy._ I got up and walked there to check it. There wasn't anything flashy. Same walls, same concrete floor, a sink, toilet, shower. No mirror. I guessed they couldn't have one for those who'd want to escape… you could use it to slash your throat open. Bet some of those who had to live here wished to try that…

Of course, I noticed the cameras here, too. I wasn't surprised. But I honestly hated the thought I'd be watched **_all day_**. In every second. Even when I was doing something which I wanted to do alone. But I have to suck it up. So I simply sighed and sat on the loo.

As I've made a whole lot of mess in my life before, and now I've had the time to finally untangle them all. _Would they let me?_ I refreshed myself, drank some water – there was a plastic cup on the sink's edge –, then I walked out of the bathroom. The light still was blueish and I still could see Hall's face. I figured she wanted to say something, so I walked up to where the brighter floor ended.

"I see you're in a much better condition than yesterday." At her deduction, I stared at the monitor without even blinking. Physically, yes. Mentally, not so. "Talk to me about your mother."

The words sent a chill down my spine. I half turned my head, not believing what I've just heard. _About mum?_ I shook my head.

"You don't want to?"

"No."

I took a step back.

"And what about your father?"

I took another step back.

"No."

Doctor Hall tilted her head.

"Sensitive topics?"

"Very."

"Well, then, let's talk about your brother."

I nearly snorted.

"That's an even more sensitive topic."

"How come?"

"Just because."

"Did he have a nickname for you, Miss Moriarty?"

**_Okay. Enough._ **

"Stop calling me like that."

"Why?"

"Because it irritates me."

"This is who you are."

"That name means nothing to me."

"You said yourself Elisabeth Lone was made up." I gritted my teeth and turned my back on the monitor. "I wondered if your first name was the same, but no, you've lied about that, too. Your original name is Mila Moriarty. Which is rather interesting; 'Mila' is originally a diminutive of Slavic names. The element of it, 'milu', means 'gracious, dear'. Why did you get rid of it? It's a beautiful name."

I closed my eyes and ran my fingers in my hair to comb it.

"It's not me."

"It's also interesting you're writing your fake name, Elisabeth, with an s; if you can be trusted and James gave you this name, it's very telling it's with an 's', not a 'z'."

I turned back to look at her.

"Why is it telling?"

Doctor Hall smiled.

"German or Dutch form. Sebastian Moran is German. Was it him who gave this name to you? Were you lying about that, too?"

I didn't realise my hands were trembling on their own.

"It's also spelled like this in the New Testament", I argued quietly.

"Are you religious?"

"Not at all."

"Then why do you know this?"

I sighed.

"Because I had to study it in the orphanage."

Doctor Hall blinked at me.

"Tell me more."

I hesitated. However, I never wanted to tell anything to an outsider, I knew she'd be my ticket to freedom. I had to cooperate. Even if I hated to do this. Even if I only wanted to tell these things to Mycroft, for two reasons. One, I wanted him to hear these bad news about me **_from me_** , and two, I wanted to save whatever I could in our relationship. But, at the moment, I was perfectly fine with getting out of this mess. The way things stood, it'd be a miracle if Mycroft wouldn't eleminate me completely from his life. It seemed what we've had was over and I probably won't be able to save it.

So, I walked back to where the black concrete floor started, sat down, and looked up at the monitor. I might as well tell this woman anything and everything she wanted to know.

"Fine", I sighed and she seemed surprised.

"How come you cooperate now?"

"Even though I dislike your entire being", I admitted, "I know the sooner I tell you everything the sooner I escape from here, so let's get it over with."

"I'm glad you came to your senses and you also realised your situation." She didn't seem any different about me telling her I disliked her. Maybe she heard worse from other inmates daily… "Well, then, start at the beginning."

"I've been told my parents died in a house fire. I don't remember them at all, but Jim showed me pictures of us."

"Are you certain you both share the same parents?"

"The pictures were enough of a proof for me", I nodded. "I was about two when I lost them. Jim took me out of the orphanage when I was 10."

I slightly frowned and looked away, sighing as I remembered how I felt when he came for me. I was so happy when he explained everything. I remembered I cried from joy and he was laughing and holding me, telling me all would be well from now on. How naive I was.

"What happened then?"

The doctor's voice snapped me out.

"He had to work a lot, so I've spent time with Jake, who was my cousin, as I've been told. I'm not entirely sure he really was my cousin, but then again, I've been mislead a lot, so who knows, it might be even true. Jim altered my name, he said, 'for safety reasons', and he rarely met me; it was fine as I was so glad I had a home of my own and I had Jake with me. He was with MI6 and he taught me a lot about being an agent. When I was 15, I decided I wanted to be an agent too and surprisingly, Jim supported me. I've had no idea back then he was a criminal..."

I sighed again, then my stomach grumbled. Doctor Hall cleared her throat.

"And then, what happened?"

"I got in the training way before I officially was in MI6, thanks to Jake who started to teach me everything he knew. This is why I did so well in there, I've had help from outside. But when I finished my studies and was about to go out to the field, Jake died during a mission."

When I went silent and stayed like that, doctor Hall cleared her throat again.

"How did that make you feel?"

I looked up at her.

"I was devastated. But I've been taught to turn the feelings which made me weak into strength; so I converted my sorrow into wrath. I wanted to know who was responsible for it and Jim provided me with files about it." I sighed and crossed my arms.

"So, this is how you got to Mycroft Holmes."

I nodded.

"He forged papers for me to get close to him. I was very well prepared. I was driven. Well... until I met him in person."

Doctor Hall lifted a brow.

"What happened then?"

"I went to the personal interview, armed, ready to take action and..." I shook my head and smiled. "He was so different from what I thought of him. He seemed curious of me and... he was kind with me." I looked down. "Apart from Jake, people usually didn't like me. I was mocked by Jim's men. I was considered weak. Which was true; I believed everything Jim told me, despite the facts I've discovered about him, because I still thought he was my brother and if he truly was my brother, he probably wanted good for me, right? So when I realised I wouldn't be able to kill Mycroft, I decided I'd try and find proof that he was not responsible for Jake's death. And I found proof. I found out, again, that Jim lied to me. And I found out he didn't care about me at all."

"What gave that away?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I cocked a brow. "He must've known Mycroft and the amount of his power in this world. If I ever succeeded with the task he gave me, I would've disappeared."

"And why couldn't you succeed with your task?"

I sighed and glanced at my arms in my lap.

"I made a mistake."

"What was it?"

"I fell in love."

"Why is that a mistake?"

I looked up at the monitor again.

"Jim used to tell me that being attached to anyone is weakness. It's bad to admit, but he was right. I've suffered, for too long, because of it. And it'll never leave me."

"Suffered?"

I nodded and I started to feel a dull pain in my chest.

"I wanted Mycroft to notice me. I wanted to get to know him, to be with him. And when I finally could be with him, I was constantly afraid he'd get hurt, and I wouldn't be able to protect him. I was afraid he'd get hurt because of me." I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. "When I thought he was in mortal danger, I chose to kill myself to save him. When he got shot, I brought him back. Then I brought him back once again, in the hospital. I never left his bedside and tried everything to bring him back." My throat tightened. "And when he finally did, he received a file about me and he threw me out of his life. I was pissed at him for that, yes, I refused to forgive him at once, but I constantly missed him." I lowered my hands back in my lap. "I've tried. To move on, to forget. I've had plenty of chances to do that. But in the end, I always want him. And it's killing me." I rubbed my eyes to prevent the tears. To no avail. "I've had plenty of nightmares of him dying and I never was able to do anything about it. I barely slept. And now... now I'm in this blasted building I hate, I let him lock me up here just because he asked me to, I'm thousands of miles away from him, unsure if I ever could see him again, this... this is too much for me."

The dull pain slowly became sharper. The doctor was watching my face, but I didn't look at the monitor.

"I understand." She replied and I grimaced. No, she did not. She couldn't possibly imagine the amount of physical and mental pain I went through for him. But I kept that to myself. "The session is over, for now. You'll get breakfast soon."

The monitor went black, the light changed to green.

And there it was.

_Loneliness._

I always tried to be amoung people. When I was his secretary, I met him and other people frequently. After that, in the café, I was amoung people, too. And lately, I only went home to sleep, while I dulled my brain with wine. I always tried my best not to be alone, for a reason. And now, that I started to bug the past, I knew it'd start bug me, too.

The breakfast arrived. Oatmeal with fresh fruits. _Strange…_ I ate, then sat on the bed and waited. But eventually, all I've had were my thoughts and they started to bother me more than anything else.

It didn't take me long to end up curved into a ball on the top of my bed, crying. But nobody seemed to think they should talk to me.

_"Why do you think you'd matter to any of us?"_

I felt like I was falling.

_"Fräulein, es ist vorbei."_

His face was so dark.

_"I don't want you to be with Sebastian. He's not for you. I mean I enjoy how he trains you, but if you're getting too close to him, I swear I'll have his head."_

His eyes, dead.

_"Es ist vorbei."_

His words, harsh and cold.

_"You're mine. You're **my** sister. Not a whore to a mercenary."_

My throat hurt.

_"You do what I tell you to do. Do you understand? If you don't obey, I'll punish you. You're **my** sister. You will do what I tell you!"_

I furrowed my brows. It was dark around me. It took me a few minutes to realise I was lying on the floor, in the bathroom, in the shower. I frowned and sat up. How did I get here? There were scratch marks on my arms. I stared down at myself.

"Are you here, now?"

I jerked when I heard doctor Hall's voice from the speakers. I pushed myself up to my feet.

"Yes."

"Good. Come and see the monitor."

I was about to leave the bathroom – then I stepped back in the dry shower and lowered myself to the floor again.

"No."

"No?"

I didn't reply. I pulled my legs up to my stomach.

"The last time you ate was hours ago."

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?"

I swallowed. Tiny bits came back to me.

_"You'll not eat unless you can hit the target!" A sharp slap landed on my cheek. "You hear me? You won't eat!"_

I jerked in reality.

"You need to eat to stay alive, you know?" Doctor Hall asked.

"Leave me alone."

"Miss Moriarty—"

"Stop calling me like that!" I screamed. I didn't feel my fingers were in my hair. I tore at my roots and I pressed my eyes together tightly. "Stop it! Stop it! **_STOP IT!!!_** "

"Why should she stop calling you like that?"

I shivered when I heard the familiar voice. _But he couldn't be here! Jim was far away, thousands of miles away from me!_

**"Leave me alone!!"**

My high pitched scream seemed to confuse doctor Hall, but it only encouraged my shadow-Jim. I looked up and I saw he stood near me, he leaned against the wall and he had a disgusting smirk on his face.

"My little sister." He cooed. "So long. I've been waiting for so long."

**"NO!"**

"Why are you so afraid of me?"

"What's happening?" Doctor Hall's voice didn't make it in my ears.

"Go away! **GO AWAY!** "

"But I'm a part of you. We share our parent's blood, sister. I can't just leave you here. We belong together, remember?"

**_Darkness._ **

**_Darkness._ **

**_Darkness._ **

The next second I looked up, I saw the ceiling, or rather, the round cutout with the glass above the bed in which I was lying in. I cleared my throat and sat up. I wasn't restrained, but the skin of my head and my lower arms hurt like Hell.

"Awake at last", I glanced up when the lights changed and the familiar voice of the doctor echoed in my room. "How are you feeling?"

I cleared my throat again. My throat hurt, too.

"What happened?" My voice was weak and hoarse. I realised my vocal cords hurt the most. I must've been screaming for a really long time. "I can't really… remember."

"Please, answer to my question first. How are you feeling?"

I closed my eyes. Then pulled my legs up and hugged them to myself as I burst out in pathetic sobbing. Why did it matter? It wouldn't be of use of me to talk about myself, or my past, or anything at all. Nothing would fix me. I was done for. And nobody cared. Nobody missed me. Nobody needed me.

_I am nothing._

"Please, respond. Talk to me. Please, just say something."

She repeated the words over and over again, for a long time. I didn't care. I climbed off the bed and dragged myself back in the shower to hide in the corner. Funny, _hide_. I'd never hide from others here. It was just as useless as I was breathing. Why did I need to draw another and another breath? Why couldn't I just stop doing it? I swung forward and backward for who knew how long.

 

I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. I didn't reply.

I just sat there for what felt like days.

I just stared at a spot on the wall where I saw my own projection. Funny thing, that. It looked so realistic.

"You've made a mistake again", he smirked at me. "You never learn. You never should've let him to lock you up here. What do you have now? Nothing." I blinked, slow, thinking I never had anything anyway. "True, that, I have to give it to you." Jim tilted his head. I kept thinking he wasn't real. "What else is real, hm? The pain? Oh, we like pain, don't we? It's alright to feel pain. It's good, wouldn't you agree? At least it tells you that you're still alive."

I slowly got to my feet and walked back in the main room. I tossed the pillow to the floor and curled up on the hard mattress. He followed me. The lights changed around us and I sighed. Probably just doctor Hall again… nothing special…

"Oh my, he'll be very disappointed, don't you think?" I stared at Jim's face and he smiled at me. Gently. As he used to do. Before he made one of his men hit me. I swallowed. "He definitely gets the news how you're handling yourself."

"Mycroft Holmes will visit you in ten minutes", doctor Hall's voice nearly made my heart stop. "I'll send a group to escort you to him.

Jim smirked down at me.

"He'll definitely be disappointed. But then again, you were nothing more just a disappointment. _Pathetic._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flails* OH MY, HE REALLY WILL BE DISAPPOINTED, EH?


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"GO TO HELL!!"**

As it turned out, the  **MAINTAIN DISTANCE OF THREE FEET**  glass could be opened from outside. Three men entered the bathroom. Two in completely white clothes, armed with guns (probably with sedative ammunition in them). The third looked rather like a businessman.

"We're here to take you to Mr Holmes." The businessman's voice was deep, calm, and rather friendly. "We'll have to put softened handcuffs on your wrists. Just for your safety. Is that alright?"

I looked up at his face and stared in his eyes silently. Then one of the two leaned down to me and fastened said handcuff on my wrists.

"Now, we'll get you up on your feet." The other white clothed man stepped closer to me. I was completely unresponsive. They pulled me up; but my knees buckled beneath me. "It's alright. We'll make sure you get better, okay?"

The two white clothed men basically carried me out. The man in the suit asked for a wheelchair and when they brought it,  they sat me down in it. I didn't protest. I remained, stoic, unmoving, while I listened to my inner tape.

_"Dear, just do what I've told you. It's not that hard. Pull the trigger." A slap across my face. "Pull the trigger. What is he, anyway? Just a man." Another hit. With a fist. "Are you deaf or stupid or both?! **DO IT!** "_

My hands were shaking again.

"We've arrived", the man in the suit told me. We stopped. I slightly furrowed my brows; there was a beautiful table before me, made from wood. I wanted to touch it. "Sir..."

"Leave."

I blinked. And raised my hand a bit to touch the desk. When my eyes noticed my fingers, I furrowed my brows further. What— why—  _dried blood?_  On my fingertips? I moved my fingers closer to my face. All of my nails broke off and my fingertips were injured. I didn't really feel the pain. Though, I jerked when the door behind me closed.

My palm finally slipped on the smooth wooden surface. It felt so different from concrete. Softer, warmer. Why couldn't I get a desk like this in my room? Hmm... maybe because I'd definitely thrash it? Something was pushed in my view. A tray, on it, a plate of food and water. I lowered my hands back in my lap.

I stayed silent. I was so tired.

"You've been here for five days." The soft voice made me blink tiredly. I didn't want to open my eyes again. I put my hands back in my lap. "And you've only eaten and drank once." I didn't move or react in any way. "They can't help you if you're not letting them."

I swallowed and looked down on my hands. Mycroft didn't know anything. He might've heard the records, but he didn't know the details. For a psychologist, my childhood traumas probably would be a goldmine; tons of shit to discover and ease up there. Tons of shit that I buried so deep I'd need days to dig down to them. And I succeeded reaching it. I wasn't at the bottom, not yet, but I was close. Wasn't this what he wanted? What doctor Hall wanted?

"You can't come home with me if you're not talking to them. I need a doctor's certificate that it's safe for you to return to normal life." Mycroft paused. I didn't move. "Elisabeth..."

Suddenly, tears filled my eyes. Then, they rolled down my face. But why? I blinked to get rid of them. I watched, in fascination, how they fell on my hands.

"Go away", I whispered.

Both of us stayed silent, unmoving, for a really long time. I didn't jerk when my hallucination Jim whispered in my ear.

"What's your next move? Will you curl up and cry? Well, that's what I'm expecting from you. You're pathetic."

"You've always listened to the wrong people."

I furrowed my brows and glanced up. Behind Mycroft to the right from my perspective, there he stood; hands behind his back, his coat and blue scarf on. He half smiled at me.

"You said yourself, the past is in the past."

"Don't listen to him!"

My eyelashes fluttered. Jim was right behind me and I shuddered when I heard his voice.

"Treat him as he is; he's just a shadow of your past."

"I'm not! I'm right here, in your head! You'll never get rid of—"

"You forget the most important thing." Sherlock smiled again. I kept thinking what did I forget, but I couldn't realise. I couldn't see. Sherlock sighed theatrically. "Really, Elisabeth? It's so simple."

"What are you looking at?"

Mycroft's question didn't bother either Jim or Sherlock. Or me, for that matter.

"You belong to your brother! You do as he says! Kill him!"

My hands, still handcuffed, shook. The chains were clinking. Sherlock shook his head.

"You don't have to do anything he says.  _Think,_   ** _why?_** " I furrowed my brows. I still didn't know.  _Tell me,_  I thought. "It's right before you."

**_"DON'T!"_ **

Jim's scream didn't affect me. I was too curious of the answer.

"You're not a victim."

**Shit.**

_He_ _is right._

"No, he's not!" Jim protested.

"Think of all of the times you were in the corner, what did you do? You thought of ways to escape them, you thought of ways to get away from them. Think, now, what do you have at your fingertips?"

"She has nothing, she's locked up!" Jim screamed, but, his voice undoubtedly got weaker and quieter with each syllable.

"On the contrary. She has everything she needs. Time and space."

Another voice joined the conversation. I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair when I heard it, now relaxed almost completely.

"You've really let yourself down, but there's nothing we can't fix. You need food and water first."  _Noah_ , I thought. "Then we can start training."

By now, Jim's voice finally disappeared.

"So. What do you need to do first?" Sherlock asked me, and I smiled, for the first time in days. I glanced at Mycroft who looked puzzled. _Eat and drink. Then train._ Sherlock nodded. "Just remember: you're not a victim."  ** _No, I'm not._**  "They can't scare you."  ** _No, they can't!_**  "They won't win!"  ** _NO, THEY WON'T!_**

I leaned forward, got the tray in my hands and pulled it in my lap. Mycroft was watching every movement. Sherlock and Noah disappeared just as Jim did, but I was fine with it as I finally had something to hold onto.

_I can beat them. I can beat them both. I'll get out of here and I'll hunt them down and I'll have my revenge for each and every punch and kick. They taught me to turn my misery into anger; they'll get just that._

I grabbed the spoon and started to eat. I hummed; it tasted so good. I didn't even realise I was so hungry my stomach ached. I drank a bit from the water, too.

"How are you feeling?" Mycroft asked quietly and I frowned slightly.

I knew I've had a long way to get out of the dark tunnel **_I_** plunged myself into, but I also knew there's still hope I might be whole one day. At the moment, I felt _shit_ though, to be honest. But I was dragging myself out of this mess, again. _I'll rebuild myself, and I'll be stronger than how I came in here!_

"I'm fine."

Obviously, I was lying. But he surely got used to it by now. He didn't seem any different; his expression almost closed, but still curious, watching me eat.

"In the past two days you've been screaming my name."

I blinked and looked up at him, puzzled. So, **_that's_** why my throat hurt. Ah well… I didn't reply, just ate another spoonful of oatmeal. _Yum!_ So delicious. How come those who lived here got this? It was way too good. I never liked oatmeal before, though. Maybe my hunger got so strong my mind made it feel better on my tongue.

"What happened?"

His quiet, soft question made me shrug.

"Nothing, just relived the past." I half smiled as I finished my food. "Not Sherrinford was the first who tortured me. Not physically, at least, not _much_ , but still."

Mycroft entwined his fingers in his lap as he leaned back.

"May I ask what happened to you exactly?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it's none of your damned business."

At this, he finally let his annoyance show.

"I'm trying to help."

"Oh really? How thoughtful of you. I don't need you."

"Just think about that for a moment…"

"I never did. All I need is myself. I don't trust you, I don't need you. You can go away."

I knew my words hurt him, but he never would've let it show. Though I knew him enough to see the change in his eyes. I've done this for two reasons. First, I wanted to make him feel shit about making me stay here and connect with my demons; second, I wanted to push him away. If I succeed with my plan, if I ever get out of here, I'm going to go after Moriarty and Moran, and I do not need Mycroft to be around me. He'd be constantly in danger.

"I need to know what—"

"No", I interrupted him rudely, "only doctor Hall needs to know anything about me."

"Well, she's fired."

I arched a brow, high.

"Shame. I would've talked to her, now."

"What makes you think I'd let her talk to you since she triggered you, not even once?" Mycroft's question sounded obvious.

" ** _She_** triggered me?" An unexpected laughter rolled out of me, I had to lean back and hold the tray tighter. "Are you thick?! Have you been paying any attention to me?"

He visibly clenched his jaw.

"Yes. And I know being alone is hard for you. But she only added to it when there was no need."

"Fascinating." I looked at my nails. They were missing. My fingertips hurt. "Even though you knew being alone turns me into a wreck, you still, **_still_** locked me up here."

"What am I supposed to do?!" Mycroft snapped. "Should I stay and spend a few months with you while you recover?"

"Why **_the fuck_** not?!" I snapped back at him.

"Because I need to be back at London, perhaps?"

"If anything else is more important than me, then go away!"

"You know just as well as I do there's nothing more important to me than you!"

"You _just_ said something else entirely! So: **bullshit!** "

"Elisabeth!"

"I don't give a fuck about your excuses!"

He grew so angry I saw a vein started to throb on his left temple.

"You've spent way too much time with Jim. We're unsure he didn't plant words in your mind with which he could trigger you, or so to speak, to murder me."

"He's had months to do that! **_MONTHS!_** And even **now!** Do you have any idea how easy it'd be for him to break in here?! How easy it'd be to hack my monitor in my cell? And you still think I'd cause you any harm? Do you know what?!" I tossed the tray on the desk. The remaining water jumped up on it, then fell over and the liquid spilled in his lap. But he remained, completely still. " **FUCK OFF!** "

"Don't say something you'd regr—"

**"GO TO HELL!!"**

My scream painted shock over his features. Then, he erased it. He erased everything, then pressed a button on the desk. The doctor came back for me and escorted me back to my cell. As I was rolled back in the wheelchair, I kept thinking I finally could get away from him.

_Maybe._

When I was back in my cell and had my handcuff removed, I lied down on the bed and decided I'd sleep. Since I decided what I'd do, nightmares finally abandoned me. I thought of the past for a while, but then I decided I'd concentrate on the future. And for my future, I had to get fit.

"Good evening, I am doctor Lien." The man in the suit showed up on the screen as I ate my dinner, sitting at my 'table' and 'chair'. "How are you feeling?"

"Be good and don't ask this question again. It's fucking annoying. _How are you feeling?_ **What do you think?** I've spent a lot of time being free, being locked up is a fucking nightmare. So don't ask dumb questions, doctor Lien."

"Why being locked up is a nightmare?"

I shook my head.

"Another dumb question."

"Still, please, enlighten me."

I finished my stew, then drank some water.

"I grew up in an orphanage then spent a lot of time with my cousin. I've got an entirely new identity just in case people wanted to use me against my brother. _Honestly?_ I've spent half of my life locked up. So I hate it. Plus, let's just lock you up here for a fucking week and you'll see, why."

I could see he smirked, just a bit.

"What was it like in the orphanage?"

I rolled my eyes, then got to my feet and started to walk from one side of the room to the other. Slow, but fast enough to get my muscles move. And ache.

"I'm not answering dumb questions."

"Do you miss your cousin?"

"Dumb."

"Do you miss your brother?"

I laughed. Without happiness.

"Dumb."

"Do you miss Sherlock Holmes?"

I arched a brow. Finally, something new.

"Ironically, yes."

"Ironically?"

"Have you personally met the man? He's a pain in the ass."

"Is he?"

"In his lovely way."

The doctor found it hard, again, not to smile.

"What about John Watson?"

"I hope he's fine."

"And Noah Griffith?"

I stopped walking for a moment. _Noah._ I needed Noah. I must get in touch with him somehow. I needed him, both as an anchor, and a valuable ally, if I got out of here… he could help me track down Jim and Sebastian. He liked danger, just as much as I did, so if I could make him turn to my side instead of Mycroft's, somehow… but how to do that?

"I miss him. It'd be good to meet him again."

"Why?"

"I could use a good dose of cuddles."

I half smiled. If Mycroft was watching now, or later, this would be very painful for him. But I couldn't care about it, not until my demons are taken care of. There's no chance for us until I'm done. Who knew how long would that take?

"Maybe we could arrange that."

I stared at the monitor, then continued walking again.

"Really?"

"If he's up to it."

I laughed a little.

"He'll totally be up to it."

_And I still owe him a punch in the face for kissing me._

 

A few days passed. I kept eating everything they brought me and I drank plenty of water; it wasn't long before I regained some of my strength. And so I did change my walks into short distance jogs. Though, for that, my cell was ridiculously small.

"Do you have any requests?"

The doctor's voice made me frown. In the past few days I kept ignoring his questions, but this made me reconsider answering.

"Requests?" I echoed.

"Mr Holmes is curious if you need anything."

I stopped my jog and stared at the monitor. What? Why? I thought I upset him enough to leave me alone...

"Well, now that you mention..." I stretched my arms up above my head. "I need a few photos. One of Sherlock, John, Noah, Ninnie and Mycroft. I also need a treadmill and a punch bag."

"Pick one."

I blinked.

"Then I need the photos."

I continued my jog. The doctor hummed.

"Why the photos?"

"Motivation."

"For what?"

I huffed as I turned at one of the walls.

"To stay sane."

 

I knew I was dreaming. But I didn't want to stop it. My brain somewhat replayed the events which happened in that office when Mycroft was here; however, I wasn't handcuffed.

"At last", I didn't sit down. "You finally come and see me."

"I told you, Elisabeth. I'm worried when you're not around me. I missed you."

"Well, then", I walked over to him and turned his chair to face me. With a smug grin, I slipped my hand under his chin and turned his head up. He didn't protest. That basically gave it away it was a dream. "I'll make sure you will not want to leave this place, ever."

And so I did. I leaned down and kissed him, then straddled his lap like that as he still sat in that huge leather chair. It felt good to feel his lips and arms around me, even if it wasn't real. His fingers slipped down from my waist to my hips and he grabbed me harder. I bit his lower lip and he hummed.

"Get this off", he tugged at my shirt and I giggled.

If I wasn't sure it was a dream, now I totally knew. My shirt ended up on the floor. And so did the trousers. Why didn't I have underwear on? Ah well.

"Corrupt me, she said", he cooed under me before he slipped his hands back on my hips. My skin crawled as he grabbed me tightly. "Like I'd _give you_ a chance to do that."

"Mm... Mycroft..."

The bad thing was, I woke up to my own moan. Then I realised I've had the pillow between my arms — and legs. I sat up and touched my lips. It felt so real.

And now I missed him more than ever.

And the worst part? Now he definitely knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like this? Aaaah I'm so curious what will happeeeen. :D  
> (It writes itself. It's evil. xD)


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When people are uncomfortable, they tend to talk more."
> 
> (Sorry for the wait! Things got really busy on my end. But this doesn't mean I'll abandon my fics!  
> Should write to the other ones, too... :))

This time, I walked down the corridors on my own legs. The doctor said I've had a visitor, but to my questions to who was it, he just smiled mysteriously. I wanted to punch him, but resisted the urge. We entered the office where I last talked to Mycroft — and I used my messed up feelings to my advantage. I made sure tears gathered in my eyes at the sight of Noah, who looked a bit puzzled at my reaction, but still smiled. _The pretty little boy._ He had a good heart. Too bad I was evil... and I was about to use him. Again. To push Mycroft away, and to also make him my ally.

"Hey, you", he grumbled in his deep, usual tone and I made sure I looked extra vulnerable at the sight of him. "How're the wrists?" I glanced down at the handcuff and smiled a little.

"It's not that bad", I shrugged as I stepped closer to him. "How's London?"

"Same old."

I smiled wider and I tried to force my mind to remember what did I feel when Mycroft was shot; how helpless and desperate and afraid I felt. The tears rolled down on my face as I stepped closer to him, hesitating.

"Did they tell you how I fell apart?" I mumbled.

"I don't care about that."

"Maybe you should."

He moved towards me and wrapped me in a warm hug. I shuddered in his hold; even though I showed fake tears, I literally  _needed_  physical contact like a breath of air. I really needed it. And it felt good. I rested my handcuffed hands on his chest. His heartbeat was strong under my fingers.

"I brought you some pictures", he mumbled as I buried my head in his shoulder.

"Just hold me now. Please. It feels so good", I whimpered.

"Alright."

Noah ran his fingers in my hair. I wondered; did Mycroft watch us now? How did this make him feel? Would he just play the Iceman again? I thought that with this, he wouldn't want to even see me.

But I was wrong about that.

"Here", said Noah when we finally pulled away.

He opened an envelope which lied on the table. I took it from him, and looked through the pictures. Two of Ninnie, one sleeping, curled up on Sherlock's chair, the other when she sat in his window and looked out to see the street. A full picture of John and Sherlock, right before 221B; John was smiling with his hands in his pockets and Sherlock looked like he was judging me. As always. I smiled wider. The next one was Noah; he had jeans and a black sweater on, his hands in his pockets, looking right in the camera with his well-known goddamn puppy eyes.

**And that was the last one.**

I stared at the pictures and the feeling was overwhelming. I wasn't sure what my feelings were doing. I was fine just a moment before – and there it was again, I felt like the walls started to close in on me.

"What's wrong?" Noah mumbled and I swallowed, my throat felt like it shrinked to the thickness of a needle.

"Well", I cleared my throat and my lips quivered. So did my hands with which I lowered the pictures. "I uh… is there anything else in that envelope?"

"No. Nothing more." Noah handed me the envelope. I couldn't help but feel shattered. _Why? Why did he do this?_ Yes, I sent him away… **_yes_** , I've said things which never were true; I purposefully hurt him, again, and he stabbed right back at me. _Why?_ To see my reactions? Was he still playing mind games with me? Was this just another damned test? An experiment? Was he torturing me, pushing my boundaries? I told the doctor specifically: _Sherlock, John, Noah, Ninnie **and Mycroft**_. Why did he leave himself out? I put the photos on the table and I let my tears fall. Noah let the envelope fall down. "What's the matter?"

"He left… he left himself out."

"What?"

"I asked for pictures of Sherlock, John, you, my cat and him. And he left himself out."

Noah blinked at me as I buried my face in my hands and realised that I **_utterly, hilariously_** fucked everything up. I felt Noah's arms around me again.

"Hey, everything will be fine."

"No", I whined in a high-pitched voice and I didn't need to act right now. This was real. The tears were real. The trembling was real. "No, nothing will be fine…"

"Listen, whatever you need, I can help with it. Okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I know you're good inside. Even if you try to cover it up with lies and even if you try to look tough, I know you need help. You need company. You don't have to do anything alone, not anymore." He pulled a bit away and smiled at me. "Honest. I'm not like Moriarty or Morstan, Elisabeth. I'm your friend. We all are. And we can help you. Let us help you."

"But… but that would mean… you'd be in danger…"

"And? You wouldn't be?" He shook his head and let me go. "Why did you send Mycroft away?"

New tears gathered in my eyes.

"I don't know! I just… I just thought it'd be better and easier for him if he knew I… I don't know…"

"You're very talented with a few things, but acting is not one of your gifts", he teased me. "Now, chin up."

"I can't… he hates me…"

"Yes, probably that's why you got the photos too, you silly."

"But he left himself out!" I wiped my cheeks with the backs of my hands.

"Because, and I know this won't stay between us since there're cameras everywhere, he is, and pardon me, a bloody idiot for making you cry." He smiled. "He is! And he'll realise. I just hope he realises it in time."

 

 _"No one knows what it's like",_ I sung, _"to be the bad man; to be the sad man... behind blue eyes... and no one knows what it's like to be hated... to be fated... to telling only lies."_  I closed my eyes as I sung the lyrics by heart and I could've sworn I heard the guitar in my head. While I continued, I couldn't help but think of Mycroft.  _"But my dreams they aren't as empty, as my conscience seems to be. I have hours"_ , I spread my arms out,  _"only lonely... my love is vengeance, that's never free..."_  I frowned a bit as I let my arms down, realising why this song went on and on in my head. Because I unconsciously linked it to him.  _"No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings, like I do, and I blame you! And no one bites back as hard... on their anger..."_  At this line I felt dampness in my eyes, because it was so true about him.  _"None of my pain and woe... can show through..."_

Suddenly, the song came on in the speakers. I smiled faintly, then dried my eyes a bit and continued singing the lyrics, then listened through silently the bridge part. Then — since I showed my back to the glass wall, I didn't see who visited me, but I saw the lights changed around me. I didn't turn back to see. It was probably doctor Lien.

 _"No one knows what it's like, to be mistreated, to be defeated, behind blue eyes..."_  I sighed and turned around to see who was there, and I nearly lost my voice, but I insisted on continuing singing, especially because of the half smile on his face. I walked up to the three feet mark and continued looking up at him.  _"...and no one knows how to say, that they're sorry; and don't worry, I'm not telling lies."_

During the last chorus and verse we both watched each other. It was strange as he had the same white attire on as me. A white shirt and trousers with white cotton shoes. I blinked a bit confused; I couldn't remember he ever left his lower arms exposed. I absentmindedly stepped closer, then remembered the line and took a step back. I sighed.

"Why are you here?" I asked him.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He wanted to slip his hands in his trousers' pocket as he used to do, but there were no pockets on this white one. I smiled. And couldn't believe it he stood there. Was he a hallucination? I couldn't tell.  _That's it, I lost it._

"You don't have to do this", I reminded him.

"But I want to."

I swallowed.

"Mycroft..."

The glass between us slowly opened and he walked right in.

"Despite everything you've told me, I know you've been lying. Did it make it easier for you?" I nearly broke down as he approached me. "I thought not. Dear, you forget it all the time: I know you." He gently took my hands. "And I care about you. Even if it breaks me."

My lips quivered. I gently squeezed his hands, then let them go and wrapped him in a hug. I buried my face in his chest. He hugged me back and I knew, that this time, he really was here. He wasn't a hallucination.

"I'm so... so sorry", I whimpered.

"It's alright. Forget it." He gently ran one of his hands in my hair as I sobbed in his chest. "Elisabeth, don't cry", he soothed me softly.

"For how... how long... will you..."

"On the weekends." Weekend ** _s_**. When I pulled away and looked up at him, feeling touched and sad and happy, and he smiled and stroked the new tears off of my cheeks. "Didn't I just ask you not to cry?"

"I can't... stop..."

"Why?"

"I don't deserve you."

I could read the sadness out of his eyes. Even if he smiled, now; it was visible I really did more damage the last time we met than ever before.

"You're wrong." He gently stroked the additional tears off of my face. "You deserve much better than me."

I looked down and examined his bare arms. As I stroked his left wrist, I realised that we were probably still monitored. The thought made me furrow my brows.

"What is it?" He asked quietly and I looked back in his eyes.

"Freckles", I mumbled and looked back down on his skin.

"Yes, well... a burden I have to bear."

I smiled faintly. The gold band was also missing.

"I like them."

"Hmm."

I let his arm go and literally threw myself against him again. He let out a quiet moan at the impact and it made me smile.

"Mycroft."

"Yes?"

I nuzzled to his neck. He wrapped his arms around me.

"Everything I do", I mumbled, "I do because I love you."

"Same here", he whispered gently.

"Would you still try to help me after everything I've said?"

He didn't think for a single moment.

"Do you think it makes any difference?" He whispered as he ran his fingers in my hair. My throat tightened and I held onto him tighter. "I could've done this earlier, though; maybe I could've helped you when you slipped. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

I smiled in his chest.

"Do shut up, dear."

 

I was lying on top of him again. His breathing was steady, his heartbeat calm, his body warm against mine. The lights were out, it was dark. Why did I wake up? I furrowed my brows. The last time I slept so well was in his home. So really, why?

"What is it?" He mumbled beneath me.

"I woke up", I whispered. "I don't know why."

He pulled at the sheet to cover my back more. I smiled instinctively.

"Then go back to sleep."

I pulled a bit away, pushed myself up on my elbow and looked at him in the dark. He lazily opened his eyes and sighed.

"What?"

His tone sounded tired and a bit annoyed. I scooted closer. The tip of my nose touched his. I giggled.

"So are you playing games, now?" He grumbled beneath me. "Because I can be cruel if I want to be."

"Bah, _please_."

"Turning away now would make things difficult for you, right?"

"I'd see then how ticklish you are."

He narrowed his eyes at me.

" **Don't** you **_dare_**."

I moved a bit and kissed his lips. He kissed back, then pulled away.

"Elisabeth, sleep."

"You know I don't take orders", I reminded him cheekily.

"We're still being recorded."

"And?"

At his annoyed expression I arched a brow.

"I don't want them to see us… _you know._ "

His answer made me grin.

"They want to see how do I behave around you, so I think it's a part of my rehabilitation, don't you think? Besides, kissing you feels good."

_He was blushing a bit in the dark or am I seeing things?_

"Then **_behave_**. Like a lady."

I laughed, pulled away, then laughed more. I sat up and couldn't stop.

"It's not funny." At his comment, I only laughed louder. "Elisabeth…"

I leaned down and kissed him again as I giggled in his lips. He grumbled beneath me as I snuggled to him again, lying on his chest once more.

"Why are you so grumpy?" I teased.

"This bed is uncomfortable."

I rolled my eyes.

"It's your fault."

"Mine?"

"You're in charge of this place, right? And you make everyone here sleep in beds like this."

"I didn't really care about the comfortability of those who need to spend time here, on the contrary. I wanted to make it functional."

"Functional?"

"When people are uncomfortable, they tend to talk more."

"And it works."

"How so?"

"You're talking a lot."

He huffed at my comment.

"Sleep." I grinned in the dark as I moved my leg between his thighs under the sheet. I felt he tensed up beneath me. "Elisabeth! **Seriously!** "

"What is it? It's comfortable to me like _this_."

"It can't be!"

"Your thighs are nice warm and soft."

"Stop it!"

"Am I making you nervous?"

"Positively."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

But instead, I moved my knee gently just a bit up. He shuddered.

"I'll change my mind and only stay for one night a week if you keep doing this."

His threat worked. I whined and pulled my leg back.

"Meanie." I commented and he sighed again. Then I nuzzled to his neck and smirked to myself. "You just wait."

"For what?"

"When I get out of here… you'll have a hard…" I paused for a moment. " _Time._ "

Mycroft judgingly moaned my name beneath me and I giggled again.

I've never felt so happy and careless in this room before.

 

The next morning I felt totally rested. He was already awake judging by the way he was playing with my hair. I smiled and nuzzled to his neck again.

"Good morning", I greeted him.

"Good morning", he replied quietly.

"I missed you so much."

It'd be a huge lie if I told him or anyone else otherwise. He hummed quietly and his fingertips massaged the skin of my head. I purred.

"Why didn't you come back to me, then?"

"Because I don't want you to be in danger."

"You know just as well as I do that I have many services under my fingertips and I am guarded, at all times."

"Shall I remind you that one time you nearly died because of a bullet?"

"That was an exception."

"Exceptions can not happen, Mycroft." I sighed. "Your heart failed at that time. And even in the hospital. I nearly lost you, _twice_."

"But you did not."

"Because I brought you back."

His fingers stopped in my hair momentarily.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to die, you moron."

He chuckled beneath me.

"How serious is this… Sebastian?"

I sighed.

"Very."

"Tell me more about him."

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"Because you'd try and catch him yourself and I can't allow you to do that."

A moment of silence.

"Why can't you allow me that?"

"If he's hunted, he hides better." I stroked his chest and started to play with his shirt. "And if he has Jim by his side, then he's capable of doing **_anything_**. Literally."

"I don't think they found each other, dear."

I kept my mouth shut for a few moments. Then I couldn't bear it anymore.

"Sebastian was my boyfriend." I closed my eyes. "We broke up because of Jim."

"It's understandable."

I furrowed my brows and pushed myself up to look at him.

"Understandable?"

"As much as I could gather about your relationship with Sebastian, I'd say it was rather toxic. Maybe Jim cared about you after all."

I stared at him, then smiled.

"How naïve you are, Mycroft." At this, he looked confused. "He made me break up with Seb because he wanted him for himself." I felt like even his heart stopped at my words. I smiled and put my head back on his chest. "He made Seb beat me up, yes. We trained like, well, animals. It wasn't unusual for me to end up in bruises and broken bones. He's too tall compared to me. But no… Jim didn't care about this. He cared about the fact we shared a bed and he wanted Seb to be in _his_ , not mine, as a matter of fact."

Mycroft stayed silent and motionless for a few seconds. I knew he had to recalculate the reasons and facts in his head. Then his fingers absentmindedly ran in my hair again.

" _Oh_ ", was all he said.

I smiled.

"Yes, it was toxic." I gently stroked his chest and closed my eyes. "And if one of them is in danger, we inevitably pull the other on ourselves. Plus…" I sighed and stopped moving. "Jim also knows about Sherrinford."

"Sherrinford is secure."

"Please, make sure he stays secure. I can deal with Seb because I know him. But one more lunatic wanting to torture me would be too much, even for me."


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry guys, end of the semester was busy, I'll also have exams in the upcoming month. *cries* But here's a chapter which I've been working on in the past few weeks. Hope you like it! I'm so grateful for your comments! <3)
> 
> "If you truly find me handsome, then something is wrong with your taste in men."

"What is it?"

At my question, Mycroft blinked. We just had breakfast, and now again, we were lying in the bed. I didn't want to do anything else but this, since I knew he'd be gone soon. Plus, we couldn't do anything else, either. We've had no laptops, phones, papers, books or telly; and he seemed more bored than me, to be honest. He was examining my face and it seemed he kept thinking about something.

"I'd just like to know more about your relationship with them. But I'm not entirely sure I should push it."

I nuzzled to his neck, both to hide my face and to be closer to him. He lost his usual scent here, but he still was warm.

"What do you want to know, exactly?"

"How did you keep in touch with Jim?"

"Like his... 'customers'. Through texts. Usually my cousin messaged him, not me."

"And how do you feel about him now?"

"I don't want him near us."

He wrapped an arm tight around me.

"I don't want him near us either."

I smiled in his neck.

"Will you let me catch him?"

Mycroft stayed in silence for a bit.

"As it'd be dangerous, probably no."

My hand started to fidget with the shirt around his neck.

"I was only sixteen when the first time happened. Seb brought me to Jim who was done interrogating a man. He was gagged and bound to a chair, but he was beaten up so badly I barely could see his face. His nails were missing. I was told his teeth were missing, too. Jim gave me a gun and told me he's done with him, and I should not disappoint him because he'll punish me. He told me to kill that man, saying he was already dead, saying he had nothing anymore and I'd show him mercy by pulling the trigger. But I didn't see it this way. So he slapped me, then told me, again, to do it." His breathing was calm and steady and he was motionless, but I still felt his muscles tensed up a bit. "I refused twice. The first time he punched me in the gut, for the second, in the face. I couldn't believe what he was doing but he had too many people around so when I refused again, he told Seb to take the gun from me and kill that man. He did it without any hesitation." I stopped for a moment to pull away and look in his eyes. "That was all he always expected of me. To follow his lead blindly. Without questions and thinking. Without emotions. He used to tell me, _'trust me, little sister, I'll make you great'_. But I never saw greatness in what he was doing. He was evil. And I tried to leave him and his men, but they made it hard for me. The first time I was finally somewhat safe was in your office." I frowned a bit. "Does it make me bad?"

"I don't think I should justify that."

I sighed and nuzzled to him again.

"Let me bring him to you." I whispered. "Please, grant me this wish."

"Why?"

"As a compensation."

"You're trying to prove your loyalty."

I knew this wasn't a question, but I felt I needed to answer.

"Yes."

"You don't need to."

He rubbed my back and I sighed.

"I do."

"Why do you think you need to?"

"Because you still don't trust me."

This time, he pulled away to look in my eyes.

"Since I know you could snap my neck when I wasn't looking, don't you think this statement of yours is not correct?"

"I'm here because I'm not to be trusted."

"You're here, dear, because I must prove it to those near me that you're to be trusted."

I sighed and snuggled again.

"Let me just listen to your heartbeat, okay?" I pressed my ear against his chest and he hummed.

"Does it make you calm?"

"You wouldn't believe how much it does. Sometimes I think I'd go crazy from the silence. It's too… peaceful."

"Hmm…" Mycroft gently ran his fingers in my hair. I purred quietly. "I hate to be left alone with my thoughts, too."

"Why?"

"The last time I was in this building I held you in my arms and I thought I lost you."

I opened my eyes and stared at the wall.

"Why do you have to keep others seperating us?"

His fingertips gently rubbed the skin of my head. I felt goosebumps on my arms.

"I want to know you're safe in the world."

"I never would be safe on your side, Mycroft."

He reached under my chin and moved my head so I'd look at him.

"That isn't true. And you know that."

I blinked and examined the colour of his eyes. I half smiled.

"Fine, handsome. I believe you."

"Stop teasing."

"Teasing?" I snuggled closer and kissed him. I smiled again, in the kiss. "It's not teasing, it's the truth."

"If you truly find me handsome, then something is wrong with your taste in men."

I arched a brow.

"There's nothing wrong with me."

I shifted, pushed myself up and sat next to him. He sat up, too, and looked at his hands for a moment. I bit my lower lip.

"What is it?" He grumbled. Judging by my face, he must've figured it out. "What's on your mind?"

"You know, what."

Goddamnit it was even worse in here, now. To me. I desperately wanted him. In every sense of the word. I moved closer to him, climbed in his lap and I let him hold me tight to his chest.

"I want to go home", I mumbled and he knew I meant I wanted to be back in his house, with him.

"I know. Soon. I promise."

 

_How will I survive the week?_

The last photo arrived with the breakfast, a little bit after Mycroft left. I placed the picture closest to my hand. It was him. In his suit, sitting in that big leather chair where I sent him to Hell. I smiled a bit at how annoyed he looked. I examined the pictures as I ate my food, then started to do my short jogging, push ups and sit ups. The doctor checked in later through the monitor to talk.

"How are you today?"

Wasn't it obvious? I sat up, glanced at the monitor, then lowered my head back against the concrete. I remembered what Mycroft said about speaking my mind, so I sighed as I sat up again.

"I miss Mycroft."

"You'll see him soon."

"Say, doctor, do you have a significant other?" I stopped my sit ups and glanced at the monitor.

"Well, I do."

"And do you miss them?"

"Of course."

"Well, you'll see them soon", I grimaced at the monitor, then continued my sit ups. "Is it any better for you, now?"

"I see your point", the doctor chuckled.

"Good."

I got up and did another jog around my cell. I occasionally jumped up on my bed, 'chair' and 'table', without my shoes on, so I wouldn't slip and fall. The doctor let me do my exercises without a comment on it, but he carried on with his tests which I amswered to my best knowledge.

It went on for hours.

When I was so tired I needed to sit down, he still continued. He asked me various questions about the orphanage I was in — where it was, what was it like, was I bullied —, then switched to something else entirely, for which I wasn't prepared.

"How do you picture yourself five years from now on?"

I thought for a while with a frown. Five years was a lot of time. And my imagination ran wild.

"I picture myself being the manager of the cafeteria I've been working in. I'd sell the most delicious latte and croissant."

"And where's Mycroft in your life at that time?"

I examined my nails carefully, felt my cheeks burnt. _Mycroft? I'd want him to be my husband. And the father of my imaginary children. Ehm, at least three children. And boys. Yes. Three extraordinary boys, with one year between each. Yes. Nathan Holmes, Damian Holmes and Belenus Holmes. It'd be perfect. Though, since I've had no idea if he wanted a child, let alone three, I'll keep these thoughts to myself..._

"Close to me."

"How close?"

" _Very_ close."

"And Sebastian?"

I glanced up at the monitor.

"Sebastian will be dead by then."

"And Jim?"

"I'd like him to be locked up here."

"Why?"

I tilted my head.

"I don't want to kill him. I can't. But he can't stay out in the world. He does too much damage. And he'd definitely ruin my life, which I obviously do not want."

"How do you want to accomplish these things?"

"I need to hunt Sebastian down and finish him. After that, we can easily catch Jim."

"Do you think he'd give himself up?"

"If I took what he values most, he'd try to take what I value the most." The doctor thought for a moment. "He'll make a mistake in his rage", I continued, "and when he does, we'll have men ready to seize him and take him here."

"Why do you want Sebastian dead? You could get him in here, too."

I furrowed my brows a bit. Then I realised my intention wasn't clear. I blushed again; this was a part of my life I didn't want to revisit, but I knew I had to.

"Sebastian was 25 when I was 16. I was a bit smaller than now, but he was already a big brute. When he first stayed with me for a night and I've had no other guards around me, he..." I sighed and rubbed my face with my hands. "He thought he'd introduce me to sexuality."

"Oh..."

"Without my consent."

The doctor's face betrayed he disapproved of this, but he needed to know, so I continued talking quietly.

"He didn't care about my pleas. He just carried on with what he was doing. When I continued to protest and accidentally kneed him in the gut, he broke my jaw." I touched the left side of my face. "He used to tell me, _'you're a big girl, and big girls never beg'_."

"Did your brother know?"

"No. I had to pretend and lie everything was alright. But Jim probably knew the truth. Still, he never did anything to stop it... until he wanted Sebastian to be with him, not me."

"And did he succeed?"

I laughed, bitterly.

"Of course he did. James Moriarty always gets what he wants, in the end."

"So is this why you have trust issues?"

I slightly tilted my head.

"Trust issues?"

"You're not making friends easily."

I furrowed my brows.

"Let's make a list", I got my hand ready. "My brother, who later abused and used me. My brother's brute, who violated me. My cousin, we don't know if he truly was my cousin... he's dead, by the way. Scott, who was literally a spy for Mycroft. Dead, too, sadly. Sherlock, the consulting detective — he has a bad history with, uh, drugs. John, the ex soldier, seen tons of shit, still in the game because he's bored." I furrowed my brows again. "Mycroft, who was my boss for months, who also abused me at the beginning of our relationship. He said he did that to push me away, but abuse is abuse. Then there was Ford, a madman who kidnapped and tortured me for months. Heath, who I knew for a very brief time before he was murdered. I blame myself for that and Scott's death, to be honest. Then there's Noah who introduced himself with an assault." I laughed a little and shook my head. "Charlotte, at the cafeteria? Probably she's the only ordinary person in my life who never caused me any harm and is still alive. Even my boss in the cafeteria turned out to be a serial killer. And why should I feel bad about having trust issues?"

Revisiting my relationships sounded depressing. I purposefully left out a few other details, but I was honest about those I listed. I got up. I felt, again, the need to move.

"Why are you training?"

"Because I'll need to protect myself."

I jumped up on my bed and looked up on the glass above my head. Those metal rails... the big ones... maybe... I ran towards the end of my bed, then jumped and tried to catch it. My fingers touched the rail, but I couldn't grab it. I hissed and ran back up on my bed. Maybe... there was only a few centimeters between the rail and the glass, perhaps...

"They can't reach you in here."

"Are you absolutely certain that Moriarty can't get in here?" I arched a brow at the monitor. The doctor stayed silent. I hummed. "Thought so."

"What makes you think he can?"

"His methods are easy. He uses what you hold dear against you. You do as you're told or the person or pet dies." I gritted my teeth. "This is why he thinks that being attached to anything is a weakness."

I ran towards the end of the bed again and jumped, my fingertips almost grabbing the rail. I landed on my feet on the floor again and sighed.

"And what do you think?" The doctor asked as I made my way to the bed again.

"He's wrong."

"How so?"

I frowned a bit at the monitor.

"I have a huge advantage, because I, despite all of his efforts, found the man who fuels my passion to fight him."

 _I'll catch it now_ , I thought.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean", I blew out the air through my mouth and ran again. I jumped, and reached the rail. I grabbed it with both hands and yelled in triumph. "I mean", I glanced at the monitor again as I pulled myself up right until my head touched the glass, "that I've failed him, because I **_chose_** to fail him instead of causing harm to Mycroft. And with that, he'd try to use him against me. Which he obviously can't do..." I did a few pull ups, then let the rail go and hopped on the floor. "And if he ever tries to harm Mycroft, he'll find himself going against me."

"You said you wouldn't be able to kill him."

I grinned and remembered one of our many arguments with Mycroft.

"I only need to make him immobile."

 

_"There's a fire starting in my heart, reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark..."_

I continued to sing through the song as a relaxing manner, since I was done doing all my... hanging upside down from the rail 'sit ups'. The screen showed the doc's face, upside down as well.

"Good morning, doc", I smiled, "sleep well?"

"Good morning. I've been better."

"Can't blame you, this place changes people."

I hummed the song and he read through a paper.

"So is this the plan?"

I arched a brow.

"What plan?"

"Yours."

"My plan is to get out of here first."

"And then?"

"Ah, yes. Find Sebastian and kill him."

"Must he die?"

"Absolutely. First off, I want to have a revenge for everything he's done to me. Second, I need to make it personal for Jim, I need to lure him out."

"And then?"

I grinned.

"I know what buttons to push to force him to make mistakes. And when that happens..." I let myself down on the floor and cracked my knuckles. "I'll need Mycroft's help."

"Your sleeping schedule changed. Are you having troubles at night?"

I bit my lip and turned on my other side. I've been awake for at least half an hour by now. I remembered I'd need to be honest, but telling about it sounded so... childish.

"I miss Mycroft", I whimpered quietly. "When I was back in my flat, alone, I imagined the blanket I was hugging was him, but the sheet here is too thin for me to believe it when I'm too tired. I also miss the reading time..."

"Reading time?"

I felt I blushed. I felt like it was way too personal to share it with anyone, especially a doctor, but I really had silly needs. Being with Mycroft was the true therapy for me, not this.

"He read for me out loud almost every evening."

"I see."

I heard in the doctor's voice he was smiling.

"His voice calms me down. I like to listen to it."

"Maybe we can find a solution for that."

 

The next evening when I was in bed, snuggled up as usual, I suddenly heard Mycroft's voice.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."

**_"Oh my God!"_ **

I sat up with my shout and stared at the screen, but it was pitch black. Mycroft continued reading in his usual, calm and collected manner, and I nearly cried with joy.

Despite everything... the troubles I caused... he heard me out and decided he'd record himself as he read out to send it to me. So I'd feel a bit better. I hugged my legs to my chest with a smile as I listened how he read the book, and I couldn't stop my tears from falling.

 

I somehow managed to struggle through the days with more questions to answer. I barely could wait to finally see him, so when I was visited by some guards and they put the handcuff on me, I obeyed. But we went to another room. It had some equipment — scales, glass door wardrobes with medications — and the doctor was waiting there. He instructed me to get on the scale. I did.

"The working out is effective", he said, "keep doing it and you'll get stronger fast."

He touched my arms to check how strong I was, then he used a flashlight to check my eyes. I blinked rapidly to get the bright spots out of my eyes for a few moments.

"She's all ready", he told someone behind me. He removed my handcuff. "And also are the papers, sir."

"Good." At the quiet reply, I spun on my heels and there he was, smirking, pleased, with a bag in his hands. "Let's get out of here then, wouldn't you agree?"

"So soon?" I asked, surprised, and he chuckled.

"Would you like to stay for another week?"

"Hell no!"


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But I want to take care of you!"
> 
> (I've been waiting for this chapter for so long, you don't even have an idea. Tell me what you think. Much love. <3)

I put on my own clothes in a finally camera free room, alone. I couldn't help but blush awkwardly when I thought he probably chose my clothes for me. Even the panties and my bra. When I was ready, I realised my shoes were totally uncomfortable. Ah well. The last time I had normal shoes on was ages ago. I walked back to him on my own legs, only one guard following me, who stayed outside the door.

"So, where shall I take you?" Mycroft asked as he looked up at me. He lowered his pocketwatch he was glancing at before I arrived, closed it and slipped it in his waistcoat's pocket. Boy, this sand brown suit. It looked so amazing on him. "In London, I presume."

"Yes", I put my black coat on. "London, my flat."

Mycroft pretended he heard me wrong.

"Your flat", he echoed.

"Precisely."

"Elisabeth…"

There he was, already trying to bargain with me to go to his house. But ah well, I have a few things to take care of first.

"Yes?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man looked so exhausted.

"I go through all sorts of trouble, paperwork, boring meetings, repeating the same thing over and over again to _limited_ people, knowing all the time you're here, incredibly far away from me, and when I finally get you out you say I can't be with you?"

I walked to him, slow. He remained, hands in his pockets, his eyes sharp. I slipped my hands on his chest and pushed myself up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

"Trust me."

"But—"

"I just need a little time."

"How much time?"

I smiled up at him and the tip of my nose touched his.

"A few weeks."

"Absolutely unacceptable!"

He got his hands out of his pockets and snaked his arms around me, holding me close. He kissed me again and I chuckled in his lips.

"Why so eager, now?"

"Do you think being away from you doesn't have an effect on me?"

"I thought you liked to be left alone."

"Not since we've spent so much time together."

I smiled.

"I still need time."

"For what? Can't you do whatever you want to do from my house?"

"If I told you", I warned him, "I'd need to kill you."

He laughed.

"Elisabeth…"

"Let's have dinner."

He slipped a hand gently under my chin and lifted my head up to kiss me again.

"Alright. Dinner first."

A chopper waited for us outside. We left immediately and we were on our way for quite a time. I was tired from today morning's work out, so I snuggled up to Mycroft who sat at my left side and rested my head on his shoulder. He was working on his phone, sending messages and e-mails, but I didn't watch what he was doing, just snaked my left arm around his right and enjoyed his closeness. He didn't seem to mind.

I must've fallen asleep because we landed on top of a building from which I could see the Big Ben. I pushed myself away from Mycroft who smiled at me and I had to move my tongue around in my mouth – yepp, definitely fell asleep. It was dark outside and I was literally starving.

"I hope you're hungry", he said as he watched me trying to get free from my safety belt.

"Starving", I admitted.

"Wait", he reached to the safety belt and undid it easily.

"Thanks", I smiled at him and pecked his cheek.

"Come, we need to get in the restaurant by 7."

"Oh, good… I don't know what's the time…"

Mycroft hummed and handed me my phone. I grinned as I powered it up; it was charged completely, and it seemed nobody touched it, but I knew this wasn't the case. As I followed him, I checked everything I've missed from the social media. Noah added me as a friend. I smiled. Then suddenly, in that exact moment, I received a text.

**Welcome back in London. Remember, Mycroft is old fashioned. Don't be alarmed. Say yes. SH**

I furrowed my brows and clicked the power button to make the screen dark. Mycroft led both of us to a car and we sat in. I kept thinking about this text. How did he know I'd be back today, right now? What did he mean Mycroft is old fashioned? Say yes – to what? What's that supposed to mean?! I found myself more confused with each passing second.

"What's on your mind?" Mycroft asked and I looked at him with a half smile.

"Nothing."

"That 'nothing' made you blush."

"Mycroft, stop analysing me."

"It's hard not to when everything is written on your face."

I looked slightly annoyed.

"I've missed you so much", I mumbled, with a bit of sarcasm in my voice.

"I know."

His amused smile made me smile, in the end.

We reached the restaurant. And of course, we were led to a cozy little corner in a private room of the restaurant. Mycroft made sure we wouldn't be bothered, and I found the seat fascinating under my butt – it was _so_ _soft_. Well, compared to the concrete 'chair' and bed I had. I browsed through the menu and my mouth started to water at the descriptions.

"Oh my God I could eat myself through this menu", I mumbled and I had a hard time choosing.

"Then do so", Mycroft replied calmly.

"I thought I annoy you when I'm devouring everything."

"Well then, you're wrong." I saw he smiled behind his menu.

"Why?"

"Because seeing you enjoy meals I provide for you is good for my heart."

I half smiled at my menu, then put it down and glanced at him.

"You know", I sighed and when he hummed, I leaned back in my chair. "Thank you for saving my life. For the thousandth time."

"You're welcome", he said, but I smiled at how he hid behind his menu.

"Mycroft, please, look at me." He lowered his menu and looked like he had no idea how to respond to me. I leaned forward again, took his hands gently and squeezed them. "Thank you for saving me again. Thank you for keeping me sane."

"It's my fault you ended up there…"

"No", I squeezed his fingers again. "And I'm really sorry for the things I've told you back there. You really just tried to help me, but it was hard for me to see in that situation."

"Don't thank me…"

"Well I guess you're not hearing 'thank you' often." I smiled.

"Well, that is right."

I heard I received another text message. I let his hands go, he picked up the menu again and after I checked the message, I felt confused again.

**Remember, say yes. SH**

I arched my brows.

_To what? - E_

I ordered myself steak in the end. What wasn't very good at Sherrinford was the meat. It seemed to me they rather gave the 'inmates' fruits and vegetables and if they even had meat, it wasn't as delicious as a restaurant made, obviously. I sat in silence and observed him; he seemed nervous for some reason and it amused me.

"What is it?" I asked when we sat in silence for at least ten minutes.

"Hmm?"

"You look nervous."

"Do I?"

My smile widened.

"You almost never look nervous. Does it have to do anything with our little problems?"

"Them?" He sighed heavily. "No."

"Then what is it?"

"Elisabeth, being nosy isn't very appropriate."

"I'm just worrying for you."

"It's nothing serious, I assure you. It's just… I have something to do and I'm not entirely sure _when_ should I do it."

"The earlier the better. If it makes you this anxious."

He genuinely took my words into account and I appreciated it. He thought for a few moments.

"I guess you're right. I think it'd be best if I did it after we had dinner."

I nodded.

"Okay. Do so."

He glanced back at me like he was wondering about something, but then he shrugged it off and decided not to say anything. We spent the remaining time in silence until our dinner arrived; I felt his nervousness came in waves and I didn't want to make it worse for him.

Surprisingly enough, he could eat at least. I remembered when he was under stress, he didn't really eat at all. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't _that_ bad. But he did drink more wine than usual. I wasn't worried for him, though; he already told me many times he knew exactly how much he could drink.

"So what is your plan for tonight?" He asked then as I finished my last bite.

"I'm going to sleep in my extra soft, extra cozy bed." I smirked at my empty plate, then washed the remains of the food with wine. "It'll feel like Heaven, seriously."

"You really didn't like that bed, then", he noted.

"It was uncomfortable for you too, how could it be comfortable to me?"

"You're my tough heroine", he smiled and I rolled my eyes.

"As Noah said, I'm as soft as a marshmallow."

At this, Mycroft laughed a little.

"Did he really say that? I'm glad the man never got the chance to taste your fist, he wouldn't say such things, then."

I giggled a bit. I felt a bit careless about my wine, to be honest. It's been a long while since I last had alcohol and now it kicked in.

"He still has a punch coming."

"Because?"

I shook my head with a smile. I wouldn't spoil tonight with replying to this.

"Just because he deserves it."

"Hmm…" Mycroft took out his pocketwatch and checked the time. "It's late. I'll take you home, then."

"Thank you so much", I smiled at him.

We got to our feet and he helped my coat on me. I turned around and looked up at him; he was watching me as he got his own dark blue, almost black coat on.

"So annoying", a woman behind me sighed. I furrowed my brows and turned to look at her. I've never seen her before. "How could you do this, seriously? After all that happened?"

I froze momentarily and stared at the gun in the woman's hand. Mycroft got a hold of my arm and squeezed, tight – I knew his umbrella was too far away from us to grab it and use it for self defense.

"Who are you?" I asked quietly and she smiled at me from behind her brown hair.

"Sebastian says he misses you, but it's all coming to an end."

I moved slightly in front of Mycroft. I felt he disapproved, but I wanted to be between him and our attacker. I knew he'd have guards around the place and we only needed to borrow some time before they arrived.

"Sebastian can go and fuck himself", I tilted my head a bit, "oh wait, Jim does that."

"You ungrateful little bitch—"

"Ungrateful?!" I laughed hysterically right in her face. She seemed shocked at it and again, I moved a bit more between Mycroft and her. And shifted closer to her. I'd only need to catch the gun with my hand… I only need to… "What should I be grateful for?"

"You've got everything on Jim's side."

"Yeah. Food, roof above my head, occasional beatings, broken bones, rapings… what else would a woman need?"

My reply didn't have an effect on her. She smiled.

"You'll regret your decisions."

"No", I smiled, "you'll regret yours."

All three of us moved simultaneously. I lurched forward towards the woman – while Mycroft did the same, from my left side. He was faster – and the woman moved left, clearly aiming for him, not me. **_Not again!_** I thought as I literally tossed Mycroft to the right, away from the way of the bullet. The loud noise made people scream outside. I prepared myself for the sharp pain, which didn't come, but my fist crashed against her chin so hard she immediately was knocked out. The doc back in Sherrinford was right. The training was useful. Hightower arrived only a moment later and he caught the woman.

" **WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!!** " I screamed at the top of my lungs. " **YOU FUCKING IDIOT! YOU SHOULD'VE PROTECTED HIM!** "

"I—I'm sorry sir— ma'am, he told me not to—"

I turned and immediately noticed the blood. Mycroft, on the other hand, only tossed my hand away.

"I'm fine", he grumbled but he slipped on his own blood and I helped him sit on the floor. I glanced at Hightower again.

" **GET HER AWAY AND GET HELP!** " I yelled.

He hurried out. I stared at his injury.

"Damn it!" I cursed. " ** _Fuck's sake_** , Mycroft!!" I angrily pushed his hand off of his injury. His left thigh was bleeding. The bullet must've went right through it without hitting his bones, but still, still… he was bleeding a lot. "What were you thinking?!" I was furious as I pressed on his wound, as hard as I could. Mainly, to stop the bleeding, but also to make him conscious of the mistake he committed. By pain. "How could you literally jump in the way?! What if it hit an artery?!"

I heard he chuckled. I let out a low growl.

"It didn't hit an artery, Elisabeth. I'm fine."

"You're **NOT FINE!** " My voice shook, my hands didn't. I clenched my teeth. I felt so useless now. I couldn't do anything but wait. I watched his sand coloured trousers as it got soaked with blood. "I bet it **_DID_** hit an artery, if you dare to bleed out..."

"It didn't", he silenced me and he reached under my chin with his right. I looked up at him. Mycroft glanced back at me with surprising softness in his eyes. "It'll be alright. I've been shot before, remember?"

"Well I don't want you to be shot!" I nearly shouted.

"Elisabeth—"

"No, you won't calm me down!"

"Why?"

"Because I feel..."

When I cut off, he arched a brow.

"Yes?"

I lowered my gaze again.

"Helpless."

Mycroft chuckled once more. It upset me.

"Stop laughing, this isn't funny!"

"It is. Because right now, you realise how I felt all those times before when you were injured."

"That's different! I don't matter, I'm not important."

When I looked at his face I saw his expression darkened quickly.

"You **_are_** important to me."

"But not vital to an entire country!"

"Elisabeth—"

"No, shut up! What you did was stupid!"

He grabbed my jaw again. A little bit harder, this time. I let him turn my head and looked in his eyes, still annoyed.

"I'm not letting you to get hurt again. I told you."

"But I'm more used to pain than you..."

"Are you?" Mycroft smirked.

"Yes."

"I have my doubts about that."

"Oh really? I remember when you cut your finger when you peeled the onions, you whined like a baby."

His cool expression melted right off of his face. His brows furrowed, his lips' corners lowered and I saw he clenched his teeth, for the first time since he's been shot.

"We remember that very differently. And I remember when you cut your hand with the paper..."

_Boy, that happened **ages** ago._

"Papercut is worse than being shot!"

"It's not!"

"So you **_admit_** it hurts!"

"Elisa—"

"Why can't you stand that I want to protect you?!" I shouted.

"Because I want to be the one who does that!" He shouted back.

"You don't have to! I can take care of myself!"

"But I want to take care of you!"

"There's no need! It's not like you're my husband!"

"Marry me, then!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but my voice got lost as my brain realised what he was saying. Then — I froze. Both physically and mentally. Mycroft smirked, triumphantly, then his hand slipped down from my chin.

"What?" I managed to push through my shock and confusion.

"You've heard me perfectly clear the first time", he responded, calmly, but I still noticed his eyes were scanning my reactions. He placed his hands on mine. And when he talked, his voice was serious, collected, ceremonious and slightly — _hopeful? Afraid? **Desperate?**_ "Elisabeth Lone, I'm asking you to marry me." He gently squeezed my hand. "Would you be my wife?"

If the shock I felt seemed great a moment before, now I became completely paralysed from it. I barely could breathe. I could feel his hand got warmer — which meant the blood left mine. My mind was racing. So was this what Sherlock meant? That Mycroft was 'old fashioned'? This was why he always tried to... _avoid_ me _that_ way... at this, blood rushed in my face at last. The thought that he wanted me was clear before; I saw his eyes wandered, but his hands never did even when I asked, he obviously held himself back. But why? Was I really this different from those he spent time intimately with? Was I really that important to him that he purposefully turned me down despite that was what he wanted for who knew how long? He wanted me — but he wanted me differently than anyone else.

He **_wanted_** me.

Forever.

And it finally dawned on me. _This_ proposal was what made him so nervous tonight. He actually wanted to ask me to marry him. Tonight. After dinner.

I realised I've been silent for too long. I noticed he started to become nervous once again; still an unusual thing for me to see him nervous. He blinked, observing my face.

"Please", he muttered.

His expression gave away he wouldn't bear it if I said no. I finally broke under the pressure. Tears flooded my eyes and rolled down my face in a hurry. This visibly confused him further.

"I..." My throat tightened so much I barely could talk. My hands started to shake as I finally removed them from his wound and snaked my arms around his neck in which I buried my face. "Yes!" My muffled, crying voice seemed alien to me. I soaked his skin. Then his shirt. Bloodied his jacket with my hands. But I didn't really care, because I was unbelievably happy. "Yes... I'd... be... very happy..."

That was when I felt he moved his arms around me, too. As he held me close, I heard him sigh with relief as I continued to soak his clothes.

"Good."


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A happy little workaholic burrito, all wrapped up in warmth and love."
> 
> [The ring.](https://www.bloomingbeautyring.com/the-blooming-beauty-ring-collection/the-crimson-rose-158-ctw-rose-cut-flower-diamond-engagement-ring-bbr607/)

"Which reminds me."

When I pulled away he reached in his suit's jacket and revealed a small box, which he opened and revealed a ring. The most beautiful ring I've ever seen in my life. It looked like a small rose with a – probably, **_goddamnit_** – rather big diamond sitting in the middle, with little petals and leaves on the sides of it.

When I realised he finally made 1000% sure I'd wear a fortune on my goddamn finger, I started to cry again – both from happiness and annoyance.

"Oh Mycroft!" I cried.

"Yes?"

"It's so beautiful!"

He gently took my shaking hand and slowly slipped it up on my finger. I couldn't take my eyes off of it, though I barely could see from the tears.

"You're doing it again", he mumbled, then sighed.

"Doing what?"

"This… _thing_ , with your eyes."

I laughed. I knew he was speaking like this just to make me laugh, to stop me from crying more.

"I'm so sorry, I just… I just never imagined you'd… after all you've discovered about me…"

"Do you think I wouldn't want you after all that happened? Oh, dear… I've put you through a lot of hard things. Constantly. And you still gave me another chance. You're here with me. What else would tell me better that you were the one?"

A voice in the back of my mind whispered, _I just hope he wouldn't change his mind about this._

"What is it made of?" I mumbled as I glanced down at the ring again.

"Good question." It seemed to me he didn't really want to answer to this. I glanced at his face and he seemed like he was thinking how to tell me without upsetting me. "18K white gold with several small diamonds around the ring and one big in the middle."

I bit my lower lip and my heart skipped a beat.

"Well then I really will wear a fortune on my finger…"

For _some_ reason, he smirked triumphantly.

I was still a bit sniffing when the ambulence arrived. Mycroft, ever the gentleman, offered me his kerchief he always kept in his suit jacket's pocket so I could dry my eyes. As the paramedics examined his injury, he refused to let my hand go.

"She'll come with me", he told the men who glanced at each other for a moment.

"Sir…"

"Trust me, you have no idea to whom you're talking to, but believe me when I say you will regret not letting her come with me."

The paramedics exchanged another glance, then one of them nodded to us and thus I could help them putting Mycroft in the ambulence van. We sat down and I watched them as they examined his injury, even on the way to the hospital, and he was silent for most of the time. I wondered if he felt funny because of bloodloss. He could tell me all he wanted he wouldn't bleed out, that amount on the floor was too much. I've seen quite a few injuries to know.

"It seems the bullet went right through the muscle", one of them mumbled and cut Mycroft's trousers open to get to it better.

Mycroft made an annoyed hiss.

"What is it, hurts?" I asked, rubbing his hand.

"Cutting my £700 trousers does."

The paramedic bit his lip hard but I laughed quietly.

"You can always buy another."

He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and smiled softly.

"Do I look like I have the money for that?" He teased.

"Oh I'm not entirely sure", I mused.

We arrived at the hospital in a rather light mood. I was told to wait outside but Mycroft insisted I stay with him, so the doctor reluctantly let me. I held my husband-to-be's hand all the time. He was told to stay in a room for the night and we got a nice, cozy little place, similar to the one he spent a month in. When we settled down, he called Sherlock and asked him to bring him clothes. As I walked to the bathroom – since I didn't want to eavesdrop – I heard Mycroft chuckled quietly.

"Yes, I did. She liked it. Of course I did, Sherlock. Properly." A pause. "I was shot and I'm in hospital again, but it'll take, say, a day. Did John finally come to terms with it?" Another pause. "Yes, he certainly will, in about a week."

I closed the door and sat on the loo. Even when I was there, I couldn't help but stare at the ring on my finger. I smiled at it. It was absolutely stunning, the most beautiful ring I've ever seen, and I also slowly started to come to terms with the fact that indeed I was about to be his wife.

Then it struck me.

**_Special day._ **

Could it be that he was planning this ever since Valentine's day? Months passed since then and so many things happened – but our wedding night surely would be a very special day for both of us. When I washed my hands I grinned at my reflection. I'll be soon called Mrs Holmes.

 

The amount of whining I had to listen to was way too much for me to stay in the hospital with him, so we went in his home. The sudden freedom felt amazing, and all I could think about was to go back to work, now. Of course, once he felt okay and he was ready to go back to work, too. But a few nights into our new living-together-routine, he definitely noticed my restlessness.

"Elisabeth", he mumbled and I hummed back as I snuggled to him. "Don't you want to work for me again?"

I nuzzled to his neck and made a quiet, almost displeased, sound.

"I don't want to be a secretary again."

"Why not? I thought you liked working for me."

"I like it when you're not mean with me, and you're only mean during the work hours when you're stressed. And let's be honest, you are stressed a lot. Especially right now; you'll have a vast amount of work to do and that comes with tons of stress."

There was a moment of silence while he stroked my head, then he chuckled and I hummed to ask what was he thinking about.

"When I say 'work for me', it doesn't have to mean work for me as a secretary, dear."

"Then? Work _what_ for you?"

"If you want to, you can go back to that café."

I blinked tiredly in his neck.

"That place is not yours, is it correct?"

"Incorrect."

I pushed myself up to look at him.

"What?" I questioned and he suddenly looked way too innocent.

"Since the owner was, well, removed… and I knew you liked to work there…"

"How do you know I liked to work there?"

"I saw you, remember? And even Sherlock said you were beaming with energy during your shifts."

I felt I blushed. Did he talk to Sherlock about me regularly? Even when we weren't together? That was both slightly frigthening and also flattering. He never stopped taking care of me, it seemed. ~~And Sherlock meant another spy, just to be clear.~~

"And?"

"And since Loche is gone… I was thinking of buying the place. Just in case you wanted to go back there."

My face became stoic.

"You bought the entire café."

It clearly wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Just because I liked to work there."

"Yes." At his calm reply, I groaned. He arched a brow. "What is it? I thought you'd be happy."

"Mycroft, you don't have to buy the entire world for me."

"I would."

"Why?"

"Because… I just… feel better if I do."

I smiled at him.

"Alright. Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much. And yes, I'd like to go back to the café. I really felt useful there."

"Aren't you a little workaholic, dear?"

At his question I laughed a little and snuggled back to him. I loved to feel his soft, warm body against mine, all nestled up in his arms and the duvet. Everything had Mycroft-scent around me. Not the hospital stench like back in Sherrinford and, well, the hospital.

"I am totally a workaholic." I mumbled. "A happy little workaholic burrito, all wrapped up in warmth and love."

He softly ran his fingers in my hair.

"Have you ever wondered…"

His sentence drifted into silence, and I hummed. But he didn't continue.

"Wondered about what?"

"If I managed to push you away from me… who would hold you in his arms, now?"

I frowned at his question.

"I don't know. Good question."

"Would you still date Sherlock?"

I laughed.

"He used me for a case, remember?"

"And what if there was real interest behind that, what if he just tested what would you do if he told you he faked it?"

"Mycroft, you're thinking too much about things that doesn't even exist." I wrapped my arm around his form and tickled his back a little. "Stop it."

"But really…"

"Why is it so important who'd I date if I wasn't here with you?"

"Because I don't understand…"

"Don't understand what?"

He didn't reply. I grumbled and gently bit his earlobe.

"Mycroft!"

"What do you see in me?" He finally blurted out. I wanted to pull away but he didn't let me. "No, I don't want to see your reactions to this question. Just tell me. I'd deduce too much from even your words."

"What words? Mycroft, when will you finally realise I really do love you? I'm about to become your bloody **_wife_** , isn't that enough proof for you?"

"But why? Why did you say yes?"

I let out a tired sigh.

"Is it lack of self confidence? Again? Really? Have you ever looked in a mirror, my beloved fiancé?"

My heart fluttered in my chest at my last three words, because it felt just so good to say them. But he didn't sound touched at it at the moment.

"Yes, I've looked in a mirror. I do it too many times a day."

His grim reply made me think for a brief moment.

"Are you aware how sexy you look?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Elisabeth."

I pushed him on his back and tossed the duvet away from him. I straddled him and leaned down to kiss him fiercely. He moaned helplessly beneath me and his hands instinctively slipped on my waist, where he grabbed me hard. My groin grinded against his and it didn't take even a minute to feel how excited I made him.

"Elisabeth, no… don't…" He softly begged in my mouth and I pulled away with a smirk.

"Well do you believe me now that I'd totally… rip your pyjamas off… right now…"

"Stop…!"

He said stop but he grabbed me even harder, pushed his hips up to make me wetter, then kissed me in a way he never did before.

"And I'd ride you until you came…"

"Please—"

"Twice?"

"Oh God, no— I believe you, just— don't move…"

I pushed myself up and looked down on him. I narrowed my eyes to see better, then I clicked his lamp on. He blinked up at me, as a confused owl, his hair messed up, his cheeks flushed. He was so sexy. And he positively looked horny right now. At least as much as I felt.

"Don't tempt me", he grumbled beneath me, his voice full of desire.

"Why are we waiting?" I traced my right index finger across his lower lip.

"Because… I value you more than just to… have you… right now."

I frowned slightly. He took my right hand and kissed my ring finger where I had the engagement ring on. I didn't take it off. Ever.

"And why else?" I whispered. "Do you think I'd change my mind?"

"Well." He cleared his throat. "Maybe suddenly, you'll come to your senses."

"Pah!" I laughed and slipped my hand on his cheek. "Never."

I kissed him gently again. His free hand patted my leg.

"Please get off of me", he whispered to me, still as red as a tomato.

"Why?" I teased and he rolled his eyes.

"You **_know_** why."

I sighed and finally got off of him, realising I probably even hurt him with my little action. His injury healed slowly and he still complained that sometimes, it hurt. But he didn't even say a word about it right now. He sat up and groaned to himself.

"What is it?" I asked innocently.

Not like I saw anything, of course. But the thought made me grin like an idiot.

"I need a bathroom break."

I nearly snorted and he didn't even look back at me before he got up, walked his slow walk to his bathroom door, then locked it so I wouldn't go in. I was pretty sure what was he doing in there.

And I was quite proud of myself.

 

The next morning the bell rang and when I glanced at Mycroft he went a bit pale.

"Well", he cleared his throat, "I guess it's time to face them…"

"Come on", I laughed, "it'll be fine."

"Do you think so?" He grumbled as I helped him get up from the table in the kitchen. "It will be horrible."

"Why?"

"Because they tend to make things difficult."

I laughed quietly as I helped him sit on his couch in the living room. I kissed his cheek.

"It'll be fine, dearest. I promise you."

I walked – nearly flied – to open the door and I flashed a huge smile on Mr and Mrs Holmes who looked a bit shocked to find me on Mycroft's house's doorstep.

"Good morning, Mrs and Mr Holmes!" I greeted them. "Just when I was about to ask Mycroft to call you where are you."

"Good morning, Elisabeth", Mrs Holmes smiled back at me. They walked in after I stepped out of the way. "The rain! The traffic was horrible. I'm so glad Mike sent a car for us, but we still got stuck in the city!"

"I know, it's horrible", I agreed, finding it amazing how easy it was to get into a conversation with his mother… and still found it funny she called her son Mike. Which, visibly made Mycroft, well, _uneasy_. "It's rather hard to get out of London most of the time."

"How have you been? Mycroft said you went on a holiday to Scotland."

Holiday. Well. I cleared my throat.

"Yes, I've been up north for a few weeks. Nothing flashy, really. Just a cosy little place near the woods. Massage and wellness to ease my mind and soul."

"Alone?"

It caught my attention the way she asked, but I smiled at the obvious edge in her tone.

"Of course, alone, ma'am. I needed a little break, away from society. Sadly, Mycroft couldn't come with me due to his work. But next time, he promised he'd come with me."

We walked to the couch and they sat on the opposite side on another one. Son and father greeted each other, and even Mrs Holmes told him a good morning before she sat down, but as soon as I sat next to Mycroft and took his hand gently – mainly, to support both of us, but he totally needed the encouragement more than me –, Mrs Holmes continued chatting.

"He always spends too much time in that office."

I smiled at her words.

"He takes his work very seriously, ma'am, and he's also good at what he does."

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not at all."

I wondered how couldn't she spot the huge engagement ring on my finger. Though, she was more occupied to watch our faces. She tried to make out most of our expressions.

"I always told him he should marry someone instead of his job", she cocked a brow.

"Interesting you say that, Mummy", Mycroft finally found his voice. His hand applied just a little bit of pressure on mine. Then he gently moved it so they'd both inevitably notice the ring. And that little movement was all which was needed. I watched their faces as their eyes darted right at my hand, and I couldn't hold my grin back when obvious **SHOCK** spread across their features. "Because I am, indeed, about to marry Elisabeth."

Mr Holmes's widened eyes stared up at my face and I smiled at him. Mrs Holmes, though, stared at my ring with even wider eyes, and her mouth slowly started to open. Until it became completely ajar. She froze in this comical pose for who knew how long before she shifted her eyes back on my face.

 **"Oh. My. God."** I couldn't help but giggle as I blushed at her reaction.

"Congratulations", Mr Holmes finally spoke and he held out his hand for Mycroft. I felt Mycroft felt a bit shocked at it, but he let my hand go to let his father shake it. "Son, I know I never used this phrase too often, but well, _well,_ **_well done!_** "

I glanced at Mycroft's face. He seemed a bit shocked now, too. If he even tried to imagine this situation, he probably did not anticipate this. Then I looked back at Mrs Holmes who still stared at me with her mouth open.

"Tell me this isn't a joke!" She almost demanded and I shook my head.

"No, not a joke at all!"

"You don't have the faintest idea how many years I've been— you just can't imagine how much I wanted them to— **_oh my God I'm so happy!_** "

I bit my lip when I saw how the colour left her face. I was slightly afraid she'd feel sick from the excitement; Mycroft seemed worried about that, too, because the next time he talked, he sounded way too calm. And also a bit cheeky.

"Mummy, it's just marriage."

"Marriage. But before that… a wedding?" She echoed, then her face lit up with the speed of light. "When will be the wedding?"

"We haven't talked about—"

"Where?"

"As I've said, we haven't—"

"Who'll you invite?"

"Well, given my position—"

"Elisabeth, are you pregnant?"

I blushed at the speed of light and shook my head quickly.

"No, **_no!_** I'm not."

"Oh…" Mrs Holmes didn't look too sad about the news. "But you want children, right?"

 _Oh my God,_ I thought as I laughed again, _what did I get myself into?_


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "In theory."

"So why haven't you figured the wedding's date out yet?"

"I just proposed to her a few days ago."

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"Because I wanted to tell you personally, and that needed to be arranged first."

"You should've told us the day you proposed! Why didn't you invite us earlier?"

"I could not. I was still at the hospital at that time."

"Why were you in the hospital?"

I arched my brow and looked at Mycroft. He visibly tensed. Until now, he pretended he wasn't shot, and now I knew why. Because he didn't tell his parents.

"I just… needed to have my blood checked."

Mrs Holmes detected the lie so fast I saw the realisation on her face at once.

"Mike!"

Mycroft visibly cringed. He must've hated this nickname.

"I was shot."

Mrs Holmes gasped. Mr Holmes merely rolled his eyes.

"Again?" He grumbled and looked at me before he glanced back at his son. "What happened?"

"Nothing, just a misunderstanding."

"Mike!" Mrs Holmes snapped and I felt Mycroft's hand started to get warmer. "No one gets shot because of a misunderstanding!"

"It's nothing severe, Mum."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

It was almost painful for me to watch him struggling with this situation. I knew his parents were worried for him but he couldn't just tell them we both were in grave danger every damned day. And most importantly, that their son was in danger because of **_me._**

"It's my fault", it slipped out of me by total accident. Three pairs of eyes stared at me in an instant. I felt Mycroft started to get even more tense next to me. He was ready to intervene. So I lied. And my lie sounded more genuine than his. Mainly because truth was in it. "Someone wanted to rob the restaurant we were at and I managed to stop it. When I unarmed the attacker, the gun accidentally went off. Mycroft was in the way of the bullet; it went right through his thigh. He's healing exceptionally fast, though."

Mrs Holmes sighed and leaned back.

"It seems to me that he's alive in the past few months just because you're with him." I smiled at her words, but I felt guilty. She couldn't be further away from the truth. Mycroft got shot because certain people wanted to cause me pain. But, of course, we couldn't tell them that. "I do hope you're taking care of your blood sugar too, Mike. Sherlock told me a few weeks back that you've been struggling with it again."

I furrowed my brows as I looked at Mycroft. His blood sugar? He had problems with his blood sugar? **_Nonsense._** That must be a misunderstanding. Mycroft was clever. He must've known the risks of having high blood sugar. But at his reaction, the cogs in my brain were set into motion. He actually blushed and his voice was both nervous and defensive. That was quite unnatural.

"My blood sugar is perfectly fine."

"But Mike—"

"I said it's fine!"

He only raised his voice a little bit, and Mrs Holmes grimaced.

"We only want you to take care of it."

"I'm taking care of it."

It seemed, for some reason, Mrs Holmes didn't believe him. And seeing how well she detected when Mycroft was lying, I started to grow even more suspicious.

"The last time we've talked about it you—"

"Can we just skip this conversation?" He asked as he rubbed his temple with his free hand. "I know what I am doing."

Mrs Holmes flashed a displeased, half, smile.

"I sure hope you do. I really hope so. You have a reason to keep yourself healthy, now, don't you?"

She looked at me and I felt my heart sunk. The situation must've been bad in the past if she was this persistent. Was it really this bad? I suddenly heard a distant bell and I bit my lower lip.

"Ah, this must be our dinner. Are you hungry, Mrs and Mr Holmes?" I asked them with a smile, hoping this way we finally would be through the hardest topics.

"Yes", they both smiled at me so I let Mycroft's hand go and got to my feet.

"Alright, I'll prepare everything, then."

While I was at it, I heard the three of them were talking, but I didn't want to eavesdrop. I made sure everything was in place – how weird, there'll be so many of us at his huge table. As a final touch, I lit a few candles, then told them everything was ready and we all sat down to eat. I sat next to Mycroft, and the elderly couple mirrored the way we sat, making Mrs Holmes sitting in front of me.

"What do you work now Elisabeth, by the way?" Mr Holmes asked and I beamed a smile at him.

"I work as a waitress in a cafeteria."

"Really?" Mrs Holmes's voice hid a little bit of shock. "Isn't that a step back in your career?"

"You could say that", Mycroft mused, "but she's also the manager of the place." I looked at him with an expression which screamed **_AM I?!_** "She saved up a lot of money and bought it."

 _Oh, really? So he isn't my boss, now?_ I grinned to myself. _Oh I'll make you **so** uncomfortable._

"Yeah, I like to be my own boss. Nobody tells me what to do, I have my breaks when I want them, order people around…"

"I'd be careful with her if I were you, Mycroft", Mr Holmes laughed and both me and Mrs Holmes laughed with him. Mycroft merely narrowed his eyes. I didn't think he thought this was funny. How interesting; he thought of so many things differently than us. I moved my foot against his. I felt he tensed, I didn't need to look at him. "Though, I'm interested, too", Mr Holmes cleared his throat, "you do want to have a proper wedding, right?"

"Of course", Mycroft sighed, "everyone will be properly informed about everything. Would you two, please, stop worrying?"

"You can hardly blame us! There're lots of things you're not telling us. September is a beautiful month for weddings", Mrs Holmes chirped quite happily as she sipped her sprinkle water.

I saw it from the corner of my eye that Mycroft blushed. Again. I wondered why. It was funny how his own parents could make him react this way.

"I was thinking about June, to be honest."

Mrs Holmes started to cough. I nearly dropped my fork. Mr Holmes's eyes widened at the speed of light.

"June??" Mrs Holmes nearly demanded.

"What's wrong with June?" Mycroft politely asked back.

"That's only, like, a month away!"

Mycroft flashed a rather amused smile.

"And?"

"How will you both figure out everything? I mean there're a lot of things to take care of! The clothes, the guest list, the food—"

Mycroft cleared his throat and he seemed to be a bit proud of himself for some reason.

"99.9% of everything is already taken care of."

"What—"

I couldn't help but let that word slip out and he glanced at me with a soft smile.

"Did you think I wouldn't plan out everything ahead, dear? Have you forgotten what am I doing for a living?"

I blinked, confused, then I shook my head a bit and pushed my fork into my meat.

"But— I mean… it's our wedding."

"Yes?"

"And in us, there's me, too."

His parents sunk into a deep silence as they listened to us, and I was tremendously happy about it.

"And?"

I felt my cheeks flushed. I started to get angry. I was so glad his parents didn't intervene, but I felt nervous they heard us having this conversation.

"And you should ask me about a few things, don't you think?"

"Don't you trust me that I'd make that day the most wonderful day you've ever had?"

I felt I blushed even more. I didn't doubt him for a single moment, of course, but to plan out our wedding without telling me was a bit… too much.

"You still should tell me."

"Alright", he nodded and got a bit of mashed potato on his fork. "If you visit me in my study later today, I'll show you everything I've been thinking about."

"You said a moment ago you've already took care of 99.9% of the things."

"In theory."

I stared at him as he raised his fork, obviously offering his mashed potato to me. It was a lovely gesture. It never happened before, but it felt so… natural. And domestic. In front of his parents. And I loved it.

"In theory", I echoed before I accepted his offer.

"That's almost like it's already taken care of, trust me."

"Imagine raising him", Mr Holmes grumbled and I glanced at him, laughing.

"It must've been difficult", I teased.

"Oh, stop it", Mycroft groaned.

We finished eating and we cleaned the table together, then Mycroft showed his parents the room where they'd stay for the weekend. As he was talking to his father, Mrs Holmes caught my arm when I was walking down the stairs.

"I just wanted to tell you", she smiled at me, "that ever since you're with him, he looks happier and also healthier. And… I just… we just wanted to say thank you."

I smiled softly at her.

"You're very welcome, Mrs Holmes."

When she retired to their room with her husband, Mycroft motioned to me with his head to follow him, and I did. He led me in his study – where Ninnie was sleeping peacefully on top of the probably top secret files he put on his desk to read earlier that day. What surprised me that he didn't shoo her at all. He just got his suit jacket off, threw it in his chair and then turned to look at me.

"So", he turned to look at me and leaned against his desk with his back, placing his hands on the edge of the wood, "I think we should talk. How are you?" I shifted closer to him. _Oh **damn**._ The way he stood there… only in his waistcoat… he must've noticed the way I looked at him as I moved closer, because he started to grin to himself. "You really can't wait until that wedding night, can you?"

I blushed at his words, but I would've been lying if I tried to protest. I stepped to him and slipped my hands on his chest, then to his shoulders, and softly kissed him. I felt his right arm around my waist, pulling me to him and our tongue battle shortly turned heated.

"I really can't", I whispered when I finally pulled away, panting.

"How bad it must be for you", he teased and I gently bit his lower lip.

"I can make it bad for you too, so don't act so high and mighty."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I'm okay. But you already know that, don't you?"

"I wondered if my parents made you uncomfortable."

"Not at all."

"How come?"

"They aren't my parents."

He pulled me closer and his nose momentarily touched mine until he adjusted his head just slightly.

"I…" He paused. "I'm sorry. They should be there, too."

"Oh, don't worry", I smiled gently, "they will be there."

He softly kissed me, this time.

"I love you", he whispered on my lips and I felt like his words made my bones jelly.

"I love you too", I whispered back. I pecked his lips. "Now show me what have you done in theory."

"Okay." He pulled a bit away, then turned back and touched his opened laptop's touchpad, bringing it back from sleeping. I saw he had several things open. He clicked one of the windows. "Our guest list, first."

I stared at the very first name in the list and I felt like my heart stopped.

"You can't be serious", I whined and he chuckled quietly.

"I am totally serious."

"You can't just invite the Queen!"

"Why not?"

I looked at him in utter disbelief.

"You're joking."

"Not at all."

I glanced at the list again.

"Mycroft!" I straightened my back and tossed my hair behind me. "You've written up the entire Royal Family!"

"Yes, I did, and then what?"

I stared at him and I felt my cheeks blushed at the speed of light.

"They won't come."

"They will."

"How can you be so sure?"

He pulled out an envelope from under his laptop and gave it to me. I took it from him, opened it and slipped out a paper of the envelope.

I inhaled sharply and almost screamed.

Almost.

"Is this real?"

"Yes, it is."

"When did you want to tell me??" I demanded and he chuckled.

"I planned the proposal in the restaurant, as you know. I planned we'd come here, and then I wanted to show you. But things turned out differently."

I glanced at the beautiful invitation again.

"They addressed me, too", I mumbled.

"Of course they did. Elisabeth, you're very pale, are you feeling alright?"

I felt he gently slipped his hand under my chin and Mycroft kissed my cheek softly.

"I… I don't know what to say… really… it'll be like… oh my God! Next Saturday!"

"Yes."

"We'll be attending the— you want to go there with— uuuh—"

"Dear, are you sure you're alright?"

"I think I need to sit down…"

Mycroft chuckled as he led me to his big leather chair and sat me down. His fingers gently rubbed my scalp and I eased into the sensations his fingers caused me.

"I have to look for a dress", I mumbled.

"You better."

Mycroft's voice let me know he was grinning. The bastard enjoyed every second of this. I gazed up in his face.

"I just came back from a literal exile and you want to go there with me. Doesn't it make people… uncomfortable?"

"I don't care if I'm making people uncomfortable." His fingers travelled down softly from my scalp to my cheek, then under my chin. "I told them I wouldn't go without you and they immediately changed their minds."

My head started to spin again. I thought I'd make people uncomfortable with my mere presence, and to this concern of mine, he simply replied he didn't care if he made them feel like that. As if it was him who'd be the cause of their discomfort! He didn't seperate himself from me anymore. And he even confirmed my feelings and thoughts about this a second later when he said he wouldn't go there without me.

 _Just to get this straight again,_ I thought, _Mycroft declined to attend a **BLOODY WEDDING OF THE ROYAL FAMILY** , if they didn't invite **ME** as well!_ Even getting an invitation from them was a great honour and they bent to his will!

_Just what did I get myself into?_

"But… but you're so important to them and I'm just… they'll think I'm a—"

"Who cares what do they think?" He grimaced just a little bit as he descended on one of his knees. His thigh must've hurt, but he hid it quickly. "In the end, what I say, matters."

"Mycroft", I put down the invitation and leaned closer to him, slipped my hands on his cheeks and turned his head up more. His eyes scanned my expression and I realised I worried him with my reaction again. I gently rubbed his cheeks with my thumbs. "You are unbelievable."

"Why?" He cocked an amused brow. "I wouldn't want to be away from you anymore. I think I made that clear."

"I just wish you already were my husband", I gently pecked his lips and I felt he grinned under my fingers. I pulled away and looked in his eyes. "We'll have a lot to make up for when you finally are."

"So, back to the point, just to clarify", he took my hands and pulled them away from his face and while he was at it, he kissed my palms. "We're inviting them, because we were invited to theirs. It's a gesture we'll have to return, wouldn't you agree?" I nodded, but didn't say anything. Imagining the Queen at our wedding sounded madness. "This doesn't mean our wedding should be a grandiose event. We could keep it quiet and simple. But I still have to invite those who're relatively close to me in my… field of work."

I went a bit pale at that.

"But you're important to hundreds of people!"

At my comment, he chuckled.

"My love, this should not make you uncomfortable."

"But most of them know I've been your secretary!"

"And my special agent", he corrected me.

"And your lunatic girlfriend!"

He shook his head with a laugh.

"Again, I absolutely do not care for one single moment about what they think. I chose you, and nothing can change that." He shifted a little and turned his laptop so we'd see the guest list. "But I've been wondering…" Mycroft sounded like he hesitated as he highlighted the first name which did not belong to those very important people. My eyes found it and my heart nearly stopped when I saw it. "Should we invite him, Elisabeth? Would you want him to be there?"

I stared at the name. For a long time. My throat tightened.

**James Moriarty**

I glanced at Mycroft and he took my hands in his again.

"He's your brother, dear", he cleared his throat before he nodded at the screen. "Your last living relative."

"Yes", I sighed. "And a crazy criminal mastermind who could blow all of us up right there and then."

"Do you think I'd let him do that?" At his question, an agonising thought crept in my mind. Jim wouldn't want me to be happy. Should I really invite him to the probably happiest day of my life? "I could contact him. I could ask for a request." When he saw I was hesitating, he gently kissed my knuckles. "You don't have to reply now. We still have a lot of time until then. Maybe now, we both should go to our bedrooms and get a good night's rest for tomorrow. Mummy wants to go shopping…"

He visibly cringed at that thought but I furrowed my brows.

"In our bedrooms?" I echoed quietly. "Aren't we sleeping together, tonight?"

Mycroft, again, blushed.

"I… wouldn't want them to think we… you know." At his reply, I felt absolutely devastated. "Oh, don't look at me like that! They taught me to be a gentleman."

"And you're doing your best to be, aren't you", I sighed, shaking my head with a smile before I planted a kiss on his forehead.


End file.
